The Blink Protocol
by ObsessiveCompulsiveforhp
Summary: In which family secrets get revealed and the name 'Potter' takes on a new meaning for all involved. Old family ties, new friendships forged, and forgotten power resurfaces. Plots and revenge!
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: So...I'm back. I know it's been ages and** ** _'Why'd all your stories disappear?'_** **Truth is, I thought being an adult meant I had to cut out every piece of fun I had gotten used to, so I asked the admins to delete my fics so that I wouldn't be tempted to come back to them. OBVIOUSLY, that didn't work. What I completely underestimated, though, was how much so many people loved my fics. I'm sooooo deeply touched by all the PM's I received. You guys are the best. You'll be happy to know that I'm bringing back every fic I can to this site. They'll be edited a bit, since t's been years since I posted them, but they will be back. Updates may be slower because, hello, adulting, but you can bet that they will be back. I'm sorry I ever took them down. You guys didn't deserve that.**

 **Now, about this fic: Yes, this is a Harry Potter and Avengers movieverse type crossover. Yes, they are happening at the same time. Don't fight me on this. If you can't bear to extend your imagination that far, this fic is going to be very uncomfortable for you. Now, I'm warning you, both Harry and Tony may be a tad OOC until I wrap my head arund them fully. Truthfully, this is a completely different situation for them both, one I've never seen in the fanfic arena, so they very well may stay a little bit OOC. Maybe. I should also make special mention that this fic includes the movieverse ONLY post Avengers #1, so no CA:WS, no A:AoU, no Thor:Ragnaroc, no matter how awesome it is. After the Chitauri are defeated (Yay!) in New York, the universe I envision takes a drastic turn from movieverse canon. Got it? Okay good. Let's get on with the fic.**

 **The Blink Protocol**

Tony would admit to no one but JARVIS - who monitored his vitals and knew anyway - that he had a minor panic attack when security called him about a kid named Potter at the security desk.

Really, it wasn't that unusual. The Stark Industries staff was well versed in what to do with awe-struck fans, be they adults or teeny-boppers, so initially, Tony'd put it out of his mind. He had a gauntlet to calibrate, after all.

Until they had said 'Harry Potter'.

Until they said he'd mentioned 'Blink'.

Now, on a regular day, Tony was insane. He freely admitted it. What he never admitted to was being a sap who fell apart at the slightest mention of a childhood code word.

But he did. It took him forty-three seconds to wrap his mind around what the kid standing in the security bay may mean for his life, and then Tony was sprinting for the elevators.

Thank God for JARVIS. It wasn't till the elevator stopped some 20 seconds later did Tony realize he couldn't breathe. He was fine, he knew, his lungs were working perfectly except they were suddenly mutinous and didn't want to work and whose organs did those type of things in precarious situations like this? Didn't they know he was trying to keep it together as it was?

Luckily, Pepper entered the elevator, having been warned and summoned by JARVIS who was brilliant even if Tony couldn't hear him over the blinding rush of colors supplanting his vision.

A lance of pain across his face then glorious, glorious air flooded his lungs and Tony stood in the moving elevator, clutching Pepper's upper arms and thanking every diety he knew didn't exist that she, at least, had kept her head.

"Tony? What's the matter with you? JARVIS says your heartrate hasn't been so high since you got back from Afgahnistan." Her blue eyes were full of concern and Tony dearly wanted to drown in them. Like right now. He could manage it, too, if he had Pimm's shrink -

Violent shaking interrupted his thoughts. "Tony!" Pepper peered at him sternly, ready to shake him again if he so much as blinked too long. Tony wanted to sob. "Tony, you answer me right now or I'm calling an ambulance."

Well, that made no sense since they had a fully stocked medical lab on the twentieth floor. Calling an ambulance would do nothing more than annoy him - because he was not riding in one of those things, have you seen one? Deathtrap, _hello_ \- which is probably why she said it - oh.

"There's a Potter in security." His voice sounded like Bane in a blender. Nice.

Pepper gazed at him a full second before her face shifted, going from concern and slight panic to expasperation and frustration with an undertone of relief, if you could believe it. "Tony, I thought there was an emergency. Did you put JARVIS up to this? Why on earth is a clay craftsman a cause for alarm in that demented head of yours?"

"Sir, we are approaching the Secuirty Bay."

Sudden terror gripped him, and Tony gripped Pepper's arm tighter as the room around him tilted. He couldn't do this.

"My father was born Howard Potter in 1916, twin to a man named Charlus Potter. Charlus had a son named James, and we basically grew up together. James got married, and died a short time later in the small comunity he lived in, he, his wife and son. I had someone very close to them tell me his son was very, very dead when I went looking for him. But now, security is telling me his son is in my building asking for me and using a code word James and I hadn't used since we were _ten_ and I can't breathe Pepper I can't breathe I'm going to die if it's not him, Pepper I will I swear but if it is," he swayed dangerously on his feet, dark clouds fringing the edges of his vision, "if it is I can't, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know - "

"Tony I need you to breathe." Pepper's eyes swam in front of his face curiously as Tony stared at her in utter confusion. "Breathe Tony, with your mouth. Okay? Come on. In - "

His lungs took over on their own accord and suddenly the heavenly, heavenly sensation of air hitting his arioles flooded his senses -

"And out. Very good. In again Tony, good. Good, keep breathing in here, okay?" Tony nodded obediently, remaining upright where she leaned him up against the wall by some miracle of science, he was sure, since he couldn't feel his legs. "You stay here, and I'll go find out what I can, okay. I'll take him to the medical bay, to get him tested, you stay in here and breathe okay?"

Tony didn't care if she couldn't decide if what he'd said was true or if he'd finally lost his mind. He didn't care that her eyes were just the tiniest bit pitying behind her confusion. Tony didn't care. James' son - _James' son_ \- may or may not have traveled across an entire ocean to find him and Tony just needed to know, as Pepper requested JARVIS let her out and keep him in before slipping through the narrow opening of the elevator doors, which version of the truth was going to kill him when terrorists, psycho competitors and hive-minded aliens couldn't.

Harry wouldn't admit it to anyone except Hedwig - whom he was terribly anxious to see if she could find him all the way across the ocean and was secretly dreading the event in which she couldn't - that he was terrified.

The rather bland looking security guard he'd approached at the Stark Industries building's - don't even get him started on the _building_ \- main floor had seemed harmlessly formal and detached when he'd first asked to see Mr. Stark. Harry wasn't a fool. He could clearly read Stark's name on the building and knew that his chances of seeing the man - who might be his _cousin_ \- in person were slim to none, which was why he'd thought of using the secret word as his parents had instructed.

So when the thin man had asked him to repeat his request, Harry had thought nothing of it.

"Uh, yes, sir. my name's Harry Potter. I wanted to speak to Mr. Anthony Stark about Blink." He'd blushed at the odd look the man had given him, until a small, flashing red light caught his attention right before the man stood up.

Harry, in his panic, had done the first thing that came to mind. Standing on tiptoe he'd peered over the edge of the too high desk and managed to catch a glimpse of a computer screen with a series of small photos of him he recognized as being from the moment he passed through the building's front doors, the words 'BLINK PROTOCOL BREACHED' flashing bright red in large capital latters over it all. He managed to pale half a second before two large security officers who could probably give Hagrid a run for his money gripped him by the arm on each side, hustling him towards a shiny silver wall and through a suddenly-there shiny silver door that slid open on their approach. The elevator, for that was the small room he'd been herded into, moved upward a few floors before Harry was unceremoniously hauled out into a large, brightly lit room. The guards plopped him onto a seat in the middle of a small, white clearing and left him. They stood feet off to the side, obviously guarding him, but Harry didn't think that necessary. He wasn't Gryffindor enough to move just then.

And so he sat. Terrified.

This, like all his plans, had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

He'd left Privet Drive the day before yesterday, after having convinced his aunt and uncle to do the same.

After the disaster that was the Tri-Wizard tournament, Harry wasted no time in telling his uncle, who had moved to lock away his school things yet again, that Voldemort was back and determined to kill him, and the more time he had to study magic, the better their chances to survive if any Death Eaters came calling.

Of course, his relatives took that to mean that Harry was not to leave his room for any reason at all, and locked him in with a bucket for "necessities," his aunt had sniffed.

Except on the second day, Harry had received a summons from Gringotts, ordering him to present himself and his magic to the bank at his earliest convenience, and after bribing the man with the promise of one thousand pounds to take him into town and bring him back to Privet Drive, Harry had set off to Diagon Alley that very afternoon.

His first stop had been a magical furniture store. He'd learned from fellow students that if you had a Gringotts account you could sign for purchases in the Alley without the burden of cash in hand. The charmed scroll would let you know if you had the amount of your purchase available when you signed, and Harry thoguht the whole deal was amazing. Sure, he had business at Gringotts, but as far as he knew the bank never closed, and Diagon Alley stores surely did. He'd had no idea how long his appointment would take.

After purchasing a few necessities of his own - if the Dursley's were going to lock him in all summer then Harry would most definitely need a toilet, a desk and a proper bed - Harry had hurried to the bank. There, he'd been directed to the office of a goblin named Ironjaw, who'd proceeded to blow Harry's fourteen year old mind.

Apparently, being entered into the Tri-Wizard tournament had the funny side effect of making him a legal adult in the magical world. Harry had stared at the goblin in shock for three seconds before the full ramifications hit him. He could leave the Durselys. The thought was almost too scandalous to think, so Harry had thought it again. Then spoke it out loud.

Ironjaw had asked him to repeat himself, and then the goblin had seethed. Harry had asked a question Ironjaw had asked another, and before long Harry's whole world had been turned upside down. Again.

The meeting had ended with Harry knowing a lot more about himself and his family than he'd ever learned in his entire life.

Ironjaw was the Potter family account manager. Apparently there were some 12 vaults linked to the Potter family.

There was another Potter out there, in America. He was actually Harry's Head of House, even though he didn't have magic. The Potter's, apparently, did not disown their squibs.

Dumbledore had illegally taken control of his family's Wizengamot seats, and had sealed his parent's wills. He'd also been making illegal withdrawals from Harry's trust vault, the one he'd given Harry the key to. The same one Molly Weasley had yet to return the key to, since she was also, apparently, making illegal withdrawals from said vault. He wasn't sure how he felt about that since he had offered that one time.

He was never supposed to have been placed with Petunia. At this, there was nothing but a hollow kind of sadness where he'd expected to feel rage.

His parents had left him letters.

It was this last thing that had undone Harry. He'd screamed at nothing in particular for an indefinable set of time before Ironjaw had had enough and summoned a goblin that doused him with a cauldron of ice water, one who had apparently been hired for this very purpose, years before Harry's grandfather was even a twinkle in his parent's minds. Apparently, the Potter temper was hereditary.

It was in James' letter he'd found the secret word and the instructions "If you're reading this, then you're not living with Padfoot or Moony, or any of the other guardians your mother and I assigned. In that case, withdraw some gold and buy a ticket to the US. My cousin Anthony is an American in charge of his father's old company, Stark Industries. Find the headquarters and get there. Its practically famous and there's only the one, so you shouldn't have any trouble. Ask for him and if they give you a hard time, just say Blink. It's our secret word and should clear up any confusion."

Harry had thought it a great plan. He'd bid good day to Ironjaw - who tasked him to send Anthony Stark back to him in a magically shrunken box for neglecting his duties as son of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter - withdrew his uncle's pounds and extra enough for the ride to the airport and any hotel he'd have to stay in (he hoped), and dashed out of the Alley underneath his invisibility cloak.

At Privet Drive, he'd cheerfully told his aunt enough of his new information to tantalize her into agreeing to write him a letter saying she'd never wanted him and did not, under any circumstances, want him back in her house; basically, that he was an emancipated minor and Dumbledore had been keeping that from both of them. He didn't bother to tell her that most of that time he'd been in school. That wasn't important. He took his letter - that Petunia had decorated with _quite_ a few exclamation points - and secured it with his other official documents from Gringotts. Then he'd given her five hundred pounds to help with moving expenses after explaining that if there were any blood wards on the house, they surely wouldn't last long with both her letter and his absolute excitement to leave. He'd called a taxi, amidst the Dursely's near-frantic packing - even Dudley wasn't kicking up a fuss - and left before the sun had fully set. He'd slept at a hotel while he'd fine tuned his plan - finding the address of the Stark Industries headquarters and confirming, through gossip magazines, that 'Tony' Stark was definitely in the city and definitely a Potter with the hair and the face and the family he looks just like James - then the airport the next morning to catch his flight, which lasted far too long in his book, so he had to grab a hotel that night - thank God for Gringotts bank cards - and then catch a taxi here to the building this morning.

Everything had seemed to go perfect, until now. He was being detained for breaching some kind of protocol, and someone somewhere was probably calling the police. Harry sat, heart pounding. It was one thing to be brave when you were in familiar circumstances with familiar people and knew you had people to fall back on, even if they would be terribly disappointed or hate his guts. It was another thing entirely to be brave when you'd left the only family you knew (and they had gone only Merlin knows where) and been arrested in a foreign country. He realized with a jolt that outside of his passport he had nothing in the way of identification, and that if they searched for him he highly doubted they'd find anything on him after fifth form. This was all some elaborate prank and Harry had fallen right into it. He didn't think his dad had meant to prank him, but Harry was so terrified he didn't know what else to think.

He'd sat there for maybe ten minutes before a tall be-suited woman with flowing red hair walked in from another suddenly-there door. Those same gossip rags he'd browsed the night before identifyed her as Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and Tony Stark's sometime girlfriend. Harry idly wondered if his fate depended on whether they were on-again or off-again.

He also wondered if Potters had a thing for redheads.

She stepped up to the security guard behind yet another desk he couldn't see over that Harry had only noticed a few minutes ago. They conversed quietly for a few moments, Ms. Potts' face giving nothing away, not that Harry could tell. All he knew was that if his heart beat any louder it would beat right out of his chest, which would cause a mess on the very white floor, which would probably get him in even more trouble. These thoughts did nothing to ease the racing of said heart.

He was just calculating the chance of him being able to scourgify the mess before he died, or worse, got found out by Muggles, when Ms. Potts tapped him on the arm.

Harry jumped, eyes wild as he tried to get his heart, again, to settle down.

"You're rather jumpy, Mr. Potter."

He blushed. "Sorry. I didn't realize you'd moved."

"Hmm." She studied him for a minute longer, which felt like eternity to Harry, before she turned towards one of the white walls. "Come with me, Mr. Potter."

Bemused, and glad to get away from the oppresive atmosphere of the Security Bay, Harry followed behind, impressed despite his fear when a section of the previously unbroken wall gave way again to another elevator. He didn't know why he was surprised. In a building this size Harry privately thought that elevators were matters of survival.

Ms. Potts did not speak in the elevator, even though Harry knew she wanted to. She'd look at him every so often, the way people sometimes did when they didn't know what to ask even though they dearly want to ask something.

Harry found himself occupied with flattening down his hair, even though he knew it was pointless - his cousin was a Potter and clearly had the same flyaway hair that didn't lay flat for any reason, first impressions be damned - and racking his brain for what he could say to his long-lost cousin.

Not exactly lost. Ironjaw had told him that Tony'd cut off all ties with Magical Britain after James' death. From what the goblin described, those two had been closer than brothers, and James' death had nearly destroyed him. It was a response Harry could understand, but a pat of him couldn't help but feel resentful. Hadn't the man cared about him at all? Not that he should have, since technically Harry wasn't his kid but still, something about it pricked him the wrong way. Harry didn't knwo what to think.

When the elevator pulled to a halt and the double doors pulled open, Harry nearly collapsed in relief, confusion and disappintment. Heart thud-thudding and struggling to process the distinct lack of Potter/Stark in the room, he followed Ms. Potts out into the room before he'd even realized it.

Ms. Potts took a good look at his face. "This is the Medical Lab. Mr. Stark has asked me to verify your identity. We have people come in here all the time claiming to be related to him." She paused, her entire face softening just a little. "Do you understand?"

Harry did, and nodded. He understood that Tony couldn't come down to meet each and every person that showed up and claimed to be his family. The man would probably never get anything done. That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

He swallowed. "But the secret word?" Maybe it wasn't so secret after all.

"Mr. Stark is especially eager to verify your identity because of it," Ms. Potts said briskly. She turned to a woman who seemed to have materialized out of thin air. "This is Dr. Cho. She'll take a sample from you to run the DNA test."

Said Dr. Cho exchanged a raised-eyebrow look with Ms. Potts Harry was sure meant a thousand different things, but the woman nodded and gestured him closer.

Tony had managed to not suffocate himself in the fifteen minutes it took Pepper to collect him from the Security Bay and transport **_him_** to the Medical Lab, wait for test results and then make her way back where Tony had sequestered himself in the elevator. He knew it was fifteen minutes because even as JARVIS distracted him with designs for first a new suit then upgrades to the team trainging room, Tony kept a running count in his head and it was exactly fifteen minutes twenty-six seconds from the time she left him in the elevator to the time she pressed the call button.

It didn't take long at all for the elevator to make it to Pepper's floor. Tony had a moment of slight panic when he realized Pepper had called him to the Medical Lab. He hastily averted his eyes to the floor-wide rig he'd been playing with for Hawkeye before his brain had a chance to latch onto that location and _what it meant._

"Tony?"

Was it just him or did Pepper sound hesitant? It wasn't just him, Tony knew, because Pepper didn't do hesitant, Pepper didn't do anything but _strong and confident and a little bit exasperated_ so if she was hesitant that meant she was worried about him and the only reason she would be worried about him and his sanity and his _lack of breathing_ that he couldn't even control because really, his lungs were mutinous little organs intent on killing him slowly, was because the kid that he had hoped for fifteen full minutes was really James' kid come back from the dead _wasn't_. The finality of that statement cleared his brain and for once, his lungs deflated and inflated of their own accord, the rush of air he didn't even know he'd been holding filling the small elevator like a mighty wind.

"It's fine, it's fine. It happens everyday, right? Did you already have lunch? Of course you did, I sent it up. What about dinner? I demand you stuff those files you've been poring over for a week into your desk and treat me to shwarmwa. We haven't had it since The Aftermath and I'm feeling pe - "

Tony blinked, the edges of his vision spotted with colors which told him he'd been runnning out of air again, but he couldn't pay attention to that since is eyes were preoccupied with a sheet of paper with a graph and some words but Tony was captivated by a number near the top, a number he couldn't begin to understand and wouldn't you know it it had stalled his brain again and his lungs were back with their mutiny and again Tony couldn't breathe because '87% match' was printed in red, bright red, red so bright it was smearing on the paper, no, the whole paper was smearing and blurring and Tony _couldn't see_ oh God he was _dying_ and then he blinked, and Pepper was there, soft fingers on his face, whispering something to him and the doors were closed over her shoulder he could see now and with a start Tony realized he was crying, really crying, and he couldn't stop.

"I can't stop it, Pepper. What's wrong with me?"

"You're happy, Tony. A little bit overwhelmed, but happy. Do you think you can stand up?"

He could stand, or so his legs said when they supported his weight. His brain, for once, was blessedly empty, not even commenting on the tears glistening on Pepper's own face which he knew he should have a comment for since Pepper didn't do tears. He clutched at Pepper's hand where it rested on his chest, an inch above the arc reactor, eyes tracking the freckles along her nose as he tried to will the tears to stop falling all over his face.

"Why won't they stop, Pepper?"

In answer, she only pulled him close enough to kiss each cheek, a secret smile playing over her lips. Tony knew he could figure out the meaning behind that smile, knew he could but found himself preoccupied with a more pressing thought.

"Where is he?"

"Inside with Dr. Cho. Are you ready to meet him?"

He didn't know if the sound that came out of his mouth was a sob or a giggle. "How am I supposed to be ready? Dumbledore told me that he died. He specifically told me that Lily and James, James was my brother, were dead trying to save Harry from the Dark Lord but the Dark Lord killed him anyway. I saw the house." His vision blurred again, and this time the tears were hot on his cheeks. "I flooed over and I saw the house and it was nothing. Half a wall still standing, scorchmarks everywhere, everything burnt to ash and _I left him there._ " His dark eyes sought out Pepper's blue, desperate for an anchor. "I left him there, all by himself."

"That's not your fault, Tony. Someone lied to you. You couldn't have known - "

"I could have checked the family tapestry. I could have checked with Gringotts. I should have been handling the family affairs but I ran back here to lose myself in alcohol and women and wasting money and he probably grew up with Petunia." This time, there was a sob, and Tony fully resigned himself to a complete meltdown. "She probably _hated_ him and - "

"You can't know that, Tony - "

"If Dumbledore had anything to do with it that's probably _exactly_ what happened." An image assaulted him then, of thin, pointy face Petunia shaking a tiny fifteen month old Harry who didnt understand where his mummy was and why his da hadn't picked him up yet or his uncle Padfoot come to make him giggle or his uncle Tony to spin him around, just Petunia shaking and shaking him and Tony didn't realize he was pulling at his hair till Pepper slapped him again.

His chest heaved as he fought to get enough air into his lungs. It occurred to him, as he stared at Pepper's stricken, worried face, eyes wild but holding it together because apparently her boss/boyfriend had completely lost it, that Pepper had no earthly idea of what he was rambling about. Pepper probably thought he was crazy, and if Harry - _Harry!_ \- hadn't been sitting in the Medical Bay she'd probably have called S.H.I.E.L.D. in to cart him away for evaluation by now. Not that she'd have wanted to, but it was a part of the Avengers agreement, and Pepper was a stickler for that kind of stuff. Most of the time. Still, he should work on calming down.

"Thanks." His breath still hadn't been caught yet, but Tony was a persistent one. He'd catch it. "I didnt mean to freak out like that. 'M'sorry." If anything, Pepper looked more alarmed. "I'm serious. I feel loads better already, and I'm not going to fall apart. Thanks for listening, and literally knocking some sense into me. I've stalled for long enough now, I think." Of course, his heart still hammered in his chest like a prized racehorse at a championship derby, but she didn't have to know that. "Time to meet the nephew." He tried a jaunty grin, but Pepper saw right through it.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this, Tony? I can bring him up to the penthouse if you need another minute."

"Pepper, I'm fine. Really. The only thing I need right now is to meet Harry."

When Tony banked the corner into the more private area of the Medical Bay where the beds were separated by those too-thin hospital-grade divders, his legs almost gave out on him. Pepper had warned him that Harry was thin, and shorter than she thought he should have been for his age and that Dr. Cho suspected malnutrition at the very least, and Tony quickly noted those things were true but he couldn't get over his nephews resemblace to James. It was almost like taking a step back to the year they were ten and James had broken his arm, except Harry didn't have a cast on his arm, nor were James' eyes that bright, vibrant green.

It took all of three seconds for Tony to realize Harry was staring at him.

The teen's eyes were wide and a little bit fearful, Tony absently noted. He edged closer, half of his brain running calculations on which of them, exactly, was more likely to fall apart. Odds were in his own favor, Tony knew, since he couldn't tell if he was still on the verge of complete meltdown or notanymore, scatteredas his emotions were, but Harry was a kid, and was smaller, and those teenaged horomones had to kick in sooner or later, right?

"Do you realize you're talking?"

Tony blinked to find Harry staring up at him curiously. "What?"

"You're talking? Ms. Potts warned me you do that sometimes. I was just wondering if this was one of them."

His brain was blank. "Yeah, apparently." Harry's eyes were really, really green. "I'm Tony Stark."

"I'm Harry Potter. I think you may be my cousin?"

"No thinking about it, kid. James and I were just about brothers." Something flashed across Harry's face then, and Tony hurried to head it off. "There's only one reason you didn't grow up with me, Harry. Someone I trusted very much told me you were dead. You and your parents. When I got the news I flooed over to the house and it was, it was gone, Harry, all gone. Just the wall left. They told me there were no bodies, old Voldie had killed you all and got disappeared. I never would have left you there if I knew you were alive. You have to know that."

Somehow they'd both ended up with tears all over their face. Tony didnt even have the presence of mind to banter it away, not right now. Let himm catch a nap or half a vat of coffee or something and maybe. right now he was done, competely and utterly spent. It was like the last 13 years all rushed past and trampled him all over again.

Harry sat still, gripping the edges of the too-large shirt he wore, and Tony knew on some level, that he had broken his nephew. Eyes simply weren't supposed to be that wet. And then Harry nodded, said "Okay" and suddenly nothing mattered, nothing at all, because his arms were suddenly filled with sobbing teen boy and Tony didn't care if he was crushing the kid to his chest or that he was crying into the kid's hair or that Harry still smelled like Harry - like hope and love and air currents - or that Dr. Cho suspected neglect and abuse and psychological damage - _Tony_ had psychological damage - all he cared about was Harry, and Harry still fit in his arms, against his chest and in his heart and he was _never letting go_.

"You hear that, bud? I'm never letting you go."

"Okay." The one word muffled against his collarbone was like fire to a hearth, and Tony could literally feel parts of him he'd locked away opening up to the heat of the blaze. He didn't care about that either. He'd do whatever it took, anything necessary to take care of his Harry.

"Never. Now let's get you home."


	2. Chapter 2

With an anxious sort of energy, Tony hurried out of the elevator, intent on finding his nephew - nephew - and wasn't that a thought.

He nearly stopped short when he found Harry seated on the floor near the floor-to-ceiling windows, absently tugging on his hair. He'd half expected the kid to be stretched out on the couch, watching tv, having ordered like twelve pizzas or something, but figured from the info that Dr. Cho had just uploaded to his server that Harry wouldn't be prone to that kind of behavior.

Tony was going to kill someone.

"Kid, don't tug on your hair. We Potters don't do bald." He noticed how Harry jumped a little, turning wide green eyes toward him, and filed it away for later. "We do pink, we do mustaches, we even do dead, but we do not do bald," he continued, maneuvering around the couch to plop onto the edge closest to the teen, one arm stretched along the back of the couch. "Your great-grandfather taught me that."

If possible, Harry's eyes widened further. "Great-grandfather?"

"Yup. Old Grandpa Edward misfired a jinx one time and came home with a perfectly round baldspot right at the front of his head that lasted for two years. No spell or potion could grow it back, so he decided to cut all his hair off. He immediately regretted it."

Harry grinned and Tony beamed.

"He regretted it every time He had to cut it again, too. He made a big deal out of it for James and I when we were tiny." It suddenly occurred to Tony, as Harry's eyes took on a suspicious sheen, that Harry had no memories of his family. Not just James and Lily and the Marauders, but the extended Potter family James and he'd grown up around. In the years leading up to James and Lily's death, the Potters had been one of the Pureblood Light families that had been summarily exterminated. After Grandfather Edward and Grandmother Astaire had been killed in Diagon Alley, his uncle Charles had had a long talk with James and Tony about staying safe, and Tony staying out of the magical world. Tony had learned that for all intents and purposes, his existence was a secret to the magical world. He hadn't realized until then, but the only magical non-Potter he had ever met was James' best friend, Sirius, and technically, he was family. There were uncles and aunts and cousins and birthday parties and pranks and family inside jokes and Harry knew none of that. "I've got his pensieve somewhere, you know. It's probably in one of the family vaults. I can show you some stuff, if you like. James and I got into a lot of trouble when we were your age." Harry gave him a hesitant, grateful nod, and those damp eyes made Tony feel like the world was tilting again, so he hastened to change the subject.

"You eat sandwiches? It's been a couple hours since you've been here and I think I should feed you before Pepper finds out. When was the last time you ate, anyway? It had to be breakfast. You must be starving. We Potters weren't known for our cooking, that was the Prewitts, but one of the lesser known traits of the Black's is the ability to make a mean sandwich. Dealing with the lawyers always either gives me a headache or makes me ravenous. Whatdya say?"

Harry blinked at him. "Sure." Tony watched as the teen levered himself to his feet, favoring his left leg. That was in Dr. Cho's report, a recent injury quickly healed, but new enough to still be tender. "Why were you talking to lawyers?'

The hesitant question brought Tony's eyes focused on Harry' face, green orbs pointed downward, one hand gripping the hair at the back of his head, just like a nervous James. Tony swallowed down the blob in his throat that threatened to choke him, and stood. They were nearly the same height. "Just securing your custody, making sure Vernon and Petunia can never come looking for a single penny, contacting my Squib attorney to begin the custody processes in the magical world, and a few other things for work." As he talked, Tony led them over to the elevators. "Even though you were supposed to be placed with me, I still have to make sure some one doesn't go sticking their long, thin nose into Potter family business and causes us any unnecessary trouble."

"Oh, okay." Tony watched Harry's shoulders relax, and felt inordinately pleased to have been able to put the child at ease. He was so pleased with himself that he almost didn't hear Harry's next words. "I can cook, if you like."

Instantly, Tony remembered everything he had ever read about psychology and team building and fostering successful managerial relationships with staff. Sure, the kid didn't work for him, but something had to translate right? He'd get JARVIS to download some child psychology and parenting books tonight. "Can you? Then let's make a deal, Ramsey. You cook whenever you like, and I'll add $50 to your daily allowance those days. Deal?"

Harry's brow furrows. "What would I do with an allowance?"

Tony blinked and shrugged. "Buy candy."

Harry scoffed, but Tony could see the cogs turning in his head. "I suppose I could buy some new clothes and school supplies - "

Tony slammed the halt button on the elevator control panel, absently smug when the cart came to a controlled stop instead of a instant slam like some others he'd been in. "Nope. Nada. Not going to happen." At Harry's confused look, Tony continued. "Clothes, shoes, necessities, non-fun stuff, they come under guar-di-an.'' He stretched the word out with an exaggerated hand to his chest. "That's me. You use your allowance for fun stuff. Joke products from Zonko's or Mr. M's." He sees Harry begin to protest and hurries on before he can get a sound out. "Hell, buy a new broomstick for all I care. Basically, if I won't buy it for you, use your allowance to buy it for yourself, barring illegal drugs and alcohol, you understand. And also, if I tell you Pepper won't let me buy it for you, which will probably be the case with at least half of the things I've already decided you need, like a broomstick, that just means buy it for yourself, 'kay? I'll add the extra to your allowance, don't worry."

Tony watched Harry grapple with that a moment, idly wondering how much longer he had before JARVIS overrode the elevator command and set them moving again. Not a second longer, apparently, since the red light on the control panel suddenly flashed green and the elevator continued it's short descent to the team level. It paid to have an eavesdropping AI, after all.

Still, something about Harry's apparent responsibility irked him. What fifteen year old felt like he had to use his allowance to buy school supplies. Didn't the kid know he was rich? Sure, he may not have had access to any of the twelve Potter vaults, but Tony knew James and Lily had set Harry up with a cushy trust fund for his upkeep till he came of age. Just another thing to tackle at Gringotts when he had a chance. Which meant he'd be paying the American Branch a visit at 3am sometime in the next few days. Thank God goblins didn't sleep.

"How are you my guardian?" Harry's quiet words derailed Tony's plan for a starbucks run before he hit the bank. Goblins should experience caramel frappacinos, he decided. "I know you said my dad was your cousin, but are you a Potter or am I a Stark?"

Tony blinked, tempted to press the halt button again. "How do I keep forgetting you don't know this?You know what, nevermind. JARVIS, give us the scenic route without the scenes, buddy."

"Certainly, sir."

Harry peered curiously up at the ceiling.

"That's my AI system, he runs the tower. I'll introduce you to him properly later. Now, uh, Potter family history. I'm going to try and make this short, Foxtrot, so keep up, okay." Tony closed his eyes and cast his mind back, searching the part of himself he'd closed off for the family history lessons he'd memorized as a child.

"My grandparents were named Edward and Astaire Potter, nee Bones. They had thirteen children, numbers seven and eight of which were twin boys they names Charlus and Howard. As the children grew it was realized that Howard was a squib. As is magical custom, children aren't announced to the community until they are three years old. My grandfather, a professional conspiracy theorist, decided to keep Howard a secret. He was raised alongside the children and discovered his own kind of magic: mechanics. While his siblings learnt spells and runes, he devoted himself to muggle studies in engineering. By the time he was seventeen he'd built quite a name for himself in the non-magical world, and shortly thereafter he moved to the magical world. He and his brother were just as close as twins could be, but there was no denying the natural separation. Charlus, though, was determined to not lose his brother. He would pester him about his engineering and its uses and when he began dating Dorea Black and found out she had a twin squib sister living in Italy, spent months setting up the most elaborate blind date in history. Months later, Howard and Maria married in secret in Italy and Dad used to swear he still wasn't sure if he hated that Uncle Charlus would interefere so much with his affairs or loved that he'd dedicated so much time to make sure he wasn't alone. Charlus and Dorea married, and both couples simply enjoyed being together for a while, since both sets of twins had had to be separated for so long. Then, the women decided it would be absolutely fantastic if they were to get pregnant at the same time, since their kids would technically be twins genetically if not hereditarily. They succeeded and although James and I were born two weeks apart, we were twins in all the ways that counted. Jmes was late," he added with a grin. "He kept deflecting the enducement spell because he wanted to sleep."

Harry grinned back up at him, eyes sparkling. "Did you tease him about it often?"

Tony snorted. "I couldn't. He was too proud of it. He said sleeping was a noble pursuit."

Just as Tony thought he could get used to Harry snickering like that, in a way that was no James at all but just a little bit Lily, the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open.

They stepped out together, into the foyer-ish area on the group floor and Tony had a flash of panic because the team was here and Harry was new and what if they scared him and he never wanted to see Tony again before Thor, big overgrown-puppy Thor, rocketed across the room, his sheer delight at seeing Tony again, or maybe it was the kid next to him, or maybe it was a combination of both, Tony didn't know, splayed all across his blonde face.

One second he was sucking in a deep breath to tell Thor to sit in his most 'I-am-the-boss-of-you' voice ever, the next second said breath was knocked out of him as Harry's skinny little hand smacked right into the arc reactor and pushed him back against the closed elevator doors. There was a flash of blue then a flash of red and Thor slid back a few feet like something had pushed him and now everyone was reaching for a weapon and Harry's hand was still on his chest and the other wrapped around a thin length of wood pointed right at the still shocked Thor and Tony's brain caught up to the situation and oh.

Harry had defended him. _Expelliarmus_ and _protego._ Fastest spellwork he'd ever seen, ever, and he'd watched James and Sirius practice for their auror tests. Had Harry even _blinked_? That aim was amazing, not excluding the awesome fact that he'd fending off a whole Asgardian prince at full tilt.

But the team was still edging for weapons, and teen or not, Tony knew if they felt any more threatened, they would use them.

"Harry, buddy, remind me never to get on your bad side." He pats the hand still on his chest as he shifted. "Thor's like an overexcited puppy, you gotta forgive him. Let's do some introductions, shall we?"

Harry relaxed marginally, and Tony used the opportunity to sling his arm over the teen's shoulders, made only slightly awkward by the fact that Harry had yet to lower his wand all the way, his green eyes still staring suspiciously at the group. Tony ignored this, silently commanding the other to do the same and _stand down_ with his eyes. Only Natasha complied, and Tony wasn't sure how he felt about _that_. "Everyone, this is my nephew, Harry. Again, big and floppy here is Thor of Asgard - "

"I am honored to meet you, little warrior! At first, I was simply pleased to have met one of friend Tony's kin, but now I see that the thirst for battle runs through your family's veins and I am more honored to have met you both."

The shield flickered, and Tony looked down in time to see Harry frown. "I'm not little," he mumbled, cheeks a bright red, stuffing his wand back into his back pocket.

"Ay, you are, young Harry. But you are also braver than many twice your size."

Harry only pouted and blushed deeper. Tony stifled a laugh.

"Dark and broody over there is Thor's brother Loki. Then we have Steve Rogers over here drinking out of my mug _again_ , next to him is my science buddy Dr. Bruce Banner and next to him is Agent Natasha Romanov, who's Brucie's girlfriend, but don't tell them I told you that, it's a _secret_ ", he stage whispered, "and the weirdo sitting on top of the fridge is Agent Clint Barton. He's part bird, so don't ever let him sit above you, got it? Though of course that protego would definitely come in handy."

By the end, Harry's face was flaming, and he gave an odd sort of hand flop for a greeting. Tony took pity on the teen and steered him over to the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Turkey's good, right?" he murmured, aware that Harry probably didn't care and would probably accept the floor swallowing him whole at this point. He made sure the kid sat close enough to the fridge that Tony could ask him a question or two if he felt Harry needed to get over his embarrassment a bit faster, a problem he doubted he'd have, and far enough from everyone else that the kid wouldn't feel like an exhibit at a zoo.

From the fridge Tony whipped out everything he had ever seen on a sandwich and set them on the counter. This was always the part he didn't like, the part that required him to pay attention so he didn't mess anything up or poison someone, usually himself. That didn't mean he had to devote all of his mental faculties to the task, though.

He had just enough brainpower to spare to annoy Cap, Bruce and Barton, whom he realized ten minutes in had picked up on his plan to give Harry some space and were _twinkling_ at him, the bastards, even if they responded as usual to his banter. He stuck to those three mainly because Thor was too loud, Loki couldn't be trusted to not turn him into something small and amphibious and annoying Natasha implied he had a death wish, which he _didn't._ He peeked over at Harry every once in a while, making sure he got a sandwich into his too-thin frame (Harry actually managed one and a half, but the mother hen in Tony ached to stuff him with another one), pulling him into the conversation when he could, which wasn't easy.

From sandwiches they ended up watching movies. Tony wasn't sure how they ended up watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy _again_ out of his excessively expansive movie collection that he'd specially updated and expanded for Bruce and Steve (and he could guess why they all watched that one because the whole Middle Earth thing reminded Thor and Loki of home, Clint loved the elves with the arrows, Steve loved how awesome and real it all looked and got sucked into the story every time and Bruce enjoyed it being so completely different from regular life. Natasha, Tony was sure, just picked it because everyone else liked it, which annoyed Tony to no end) but he was glad when the credits rolled on the last one and JARVIS raised the lights because of course it was suddenly after midnight and Harry turned out to be knocked out on a cushion on the living room floor.

"Finally,"Clint breathed, and Tony had to agree. He'd watched Harry struggle to stay awake, knowing the kid was comfortable for the moment and didn't want to lose that comfortable feeling just because he had to go to bed. There was probably a desire to not look like a little kid in front of everyone mixed in there as well, but Tony liked to think that Harry just didn't want to leave him. It was sappy and he knew it and Tony didn't _care_.

As Steve gathered their trash and Natasha stretched her legs, Tony gathered Harry to his chest, careful not to jarr the kid's left ankle, and rose to his feet. Tony knew he was fit, but he wasn't a gym junkie. It bothered him that lifting a fourteen year old boy taxed him less than lifting one of those clunky pieces of the Mark II. He stood still a moment, Harry's head limp against his shoulder, the teen's weight seeming to seep into Tony's very soul. This was his nephew. Technically cousin, yes, but James' father had been his father's twin and their mother's had been twins so _scientifically_ James and he could be considered brothers and they were in every way that mattered, and someone had _kept him away_ from Harry and a sharp, choking sort of rage filled him then and he realized he was clutching Harry with a grip so tight it hurt when the teen started to squirm.

Instantly, Tony squashed the red from his vision, turned on his heel and headed for the sleeping quarters. JARVIS had informed him that Harry's bedroom was across the floor from his own on this floor, since Tony hardly ever used the rooms on the penthouse level since the attack on Manhattan. He'd just entered the hall when Harry began to squirm in earnest, emerald eyes, darkened with sleep, blinking blearily behind his glasses. "'S'okay. I cn make it b'm'self. I got it. I cn do it."

Tony blinked, before pulling Harry even closer, squeezing the child close just like the iron band around his heart squeezed the tears out of him and into Harry's hair. "You don't have to, Bambi. Never again."


	3. Chapter 3

Tony's mind was an odd combination of blank and frantic as he made his way back to the living room area. Putting Harry to bed had been...an experence.

He wasn't an expert by any stretch of the imagination but Tony had never gotten the impression that teenagers were so...sleepy. Sure, the kid had traveled all by himself and had probably toured the city and for a normal human being that amount of activity would probably be tiring because to be honest Tony's only guessing at this point since his blood was practically made of coffee now and he just kept going till he crashed. But the fact that Harry went back to sleep so quickly, being held by someone he only just met, pricked at something at the back of his mind he couldn't quite get himself to focus on. There was something about it all that seemed vaguely familiar, but Tony wasn't one to dwell on anything, and opted to come back to that later.

So he had had a very sleepy Harry in his arms and had laid him on the bed. Harry had half woken up, sleepily self-conscious, mumbling about not changing and something about a Weasley and really, normally Tony would just have let that go because personal space and boundaries, but Tony had willingly changed Harry's diaper (that one time) and dealt with his spit up without screaming (after that one time) and he suddenly had his baby Harry back and laying him down and pulling his shirt up despite those sleepy limbs batting him away was just the most normal thing to do in the moment and Tony had slipped the kid into one of his old, soft AC/DC tshirts (thanks JARVIS) and under the light blanket (make sure he's comfortable, JARVIS) before he'd even had the thought that maybe the kid could change himself.

He'd stood next to the bed for what felt like hours watching the rise and fall of Harry's chest, the tiny twitches from his head right down to his foot that told Tony that Harry dreamed - James used to joke that he'd be doomed to watch Harry rule the football field instead of the Quidditch stadium because Harry had a kick like a pissed off mule - wishing with all his heart the conclusions his mind was jumping to beneath the surface of his calm thoughts weren't so logical. With one last instruction to JARVIS ("Get me if he so much as sneezes, JARVIS." "I will alert you in case of emergency, sir.") he headed back to the living room.

He' d stopped about three feet past the door, simply staring at the patch of floor directly in his line of vision. It wasn't a partcularly fascinating piece of floor, to be honest, except it held a singular item. A shoe. Harry's shoe. Except, the dingy, faded, beat-up-with-a-hole-in-the-toe shoe didn't look like it should be Harry's. Except it was, and Tony knew with certainty that it was Harry's shoe because he saw-but-didn't-see him wearing it earlier in the Medical Bay and saw-but-didn't-see him kick them off earlier when Bruce suggested they all watch a movie and JARVIS casually reminded them all that the living room during TV time was a no-shoe-no-weapon zone and Tony's thoughts had been running running running since he first noticed Harry was more than a foot too short and the dull, frantic chatter buzzing beneath the facade of calm raged to a roar the ore he stared at the shoe, growing louder and louder until it was all he could hear, a raging, roaring buzz and then sudenly silence and Tony snapped.

A bar stool made it to him hands first and Tony took a mad, blind swipe through the air with it to crash it over the stupid, beat up shoe and inexplicably, that wasn't enough. He picked up the shoe and hurled it who knws where but he didn't see or hear where it landed and suddenly everything was too still too calm too proper and Petunia flashed across his mind then, sneering at him at James' and Lily's wedding you're only barely the proper sort and nothing, nothing was safe. Tony dashed foward and sent a chair sailing through the air, then another, then cushions and remtoes and anything he could get his hands on and anything he could break and destroy and bend because Harry his Harry had been mistreated and starved and nobody did anything and there was too much Tony didn't know and he was only dimly aware of someone shouting for him to stop but the thing in his hands wouldn't break and he smashed it against the counter over and over again and it wouldn't break and -

" - if this is the kind of guardian you're going to be I might as well alert CPS right now!"

And suddenly the haze in his mind cleared, the rage molten and violent in his gut and Tony turned, too angry, no livid, to articulate the cusswords simmering just beneath the surface at a Captain who had the nerve to glare across the room at him.

The team all stood backed against the television, Steve and Thor blocking the others from danger, the thin, shimmering veil of Loki's magic marking a dome around them. The remains of the thick glass coffee table lay scattered at their feet, shards glimmeirng in the bright lights of the living room and reflecting the green of the shield. Not that Tony cared.

"What did you say to me, Rogers?"

"I said - "

Tap tap tap.

"Someone is knocking, friend Stark."

Tap tap. Tap tap tap.

Tony spun to the windows, then to the large glass sliding doors facing the balcony. There, against the black of the midnight sky, flapped a snowy white owl.

Tap tap.

In a moment, all of Tony's training and knowledge of post owls came back to him. As far as he could tell, Snowy, because yes, he had immediately named the owl in his head, didn't have a letter. Post owls not carrying letters were invariably returning home, with very few exceptions. Since Tony did not own a post owl, it could only make sense that Snowy here belonged to Harry.

Stuffing his rage down to a back burner, Tony moved to let the owl in. Owls were known to pick up on the mood of the humans closest to them, and Tony had no desire to be scratched on top of everything else tonight. Additionally, the bird might choose to poop on his stuff. Tony did not want to deal with owl poop.

"JARVIS, open the door." The glass stood open, and Tony extended his arm. Huh, muscle memory was apparently a real thing. Snowy fluttered through the air to perch on his arm, and Tony could see the slight ruffle of her feathers and felt the slight tremble in her grip.

"Did you fly all the way from England, girl?" At the owl's affirmative hoot, Tony blanches. "You must be exhausted. Do you want some water before you see Harry? You can have a bath too, in the sink. I think it's wide enough." The owl had perked up at the mention of water, so Tony headed right to the sink,avoiding the broken glass and furniture in his path. In the kitchen he set the tap to run. The snowy hopped right under the flow and proceeds to drench the surrounding area, Tony included, as she flapped though her bath. He paid no mind to it, since, duh, magical birds don't carry mundane bird dieases, or even magical ones, and sets out a dish of water she can devour at her heart's content. Tony was perfecty content to ignore his teammates for the moment, especially Captain Needs-a-Punch-in-the-Face, even if he knew they did mean well. He could tell they were stunned though, again, which was great, honestly. If he couldn't keep them on their toes then life would get boring very quickly. He also knew they were practically foaming at the mouth with questions, especially Natasha. She needed information like most humans needed air, and even though Tony's own frustration at not knowing more than he knew he should at this point encompassed nearly the entirety of his mind, he could spare some amusement for hers.

The owl was done with her bath, and Tony still hadn't found a suitable substitute for...whatever it was that owls ate.

"Uh, JARVIS, we got any rats?"

"Negative, sir. The tower's rodent population has been nonexistent since you installed the Stark-grade electromagnetic rodent repellent before the building officially opened."

"Oh, right." Tony wandered over to the cupboards aware of the owl's great big eyes on him as she drank her water. "Okay Snowy. The only thing I've got for you is beef jerky and sunflower seeds. I'm really sorry I don't have any owl treats. I didn't know I'd have an owl in my house tonight."

'Snowy' did not see displeased with his offering, so Tony made quick work of setting the meal up on a serving tray along with the water dish. "If you hop up on my shoulder, I'll take you to Harry and you can eat and watch him at the same time. I figure you'd want to make sure he's alright." The owl's hoot sounded almost relieved Tony understood what was really important, and she flew up to his shoulder without further ado. Tony was impressed. She didn't even need to squeeze his shoulder, so he didn't get pinched or have a ruined shirt. "Snowy, you're brilliant," he praised as he set off back towards the hallway, aware both of the owl's preening at his praise and the team's bewilderment at his behavior.

Down the dark corridor, Tony chatted with the owl. It had come back so naturally to him, as if it hadn't been eighteen years since he had last seen a mail owl. "You know, now that I htink about it, he was looking for ou earlier. I kept thinking he was worried about a letter saying he was in trouble, but now I know he was just worried about you. You've a magnificent tracker, Snowy. It's no mean feat to follow your human all the way from England here. And so timely too. Harry's just got here today, you made amazing time." By the time they'd made it to Harry's door, Snowy had decided that she quite liked human Tony, or that was what Tony supposed since she'd stated to groom his hair. Not that he minded.

Harry lay curled on his side, both arms tucked around his middle. It bothered Tony that, unconsciously, Harry felt the need to protect his middle. The rage was still there, and as Tony settled the owl on a standing lamp and moved the tray to the nearest dresser, he funneled that rage into the beginnings of a plan. The magical world had forgotten the power of the Potter name. It was time they learned it again.

Tony returned to the living room to find the last pieces of a bar chair reassemble then settle into it's rightful place. The other furniture had since been repaired, no doubt courtesy of Loki, who stood in the center of the living room with his arms crossed, a patently bored expression on his face. Thor sat in an armchair, the only one Tony hadn't been able to break, he noted with some annoyance, while Nat, Bruce and Clint had squeezed into the couch. Behind them stood Steve. He caught sight of Tony and strode forwardand tony matched him, itching for a fight.

Loki caught them in the middle. "Boys, that's enough." Tony ignored him.

"Look, Tony - "

"Shut up." Tony got right up in Steve's face, ignoring Loki's arm separating them or the grip that suddenly held him by the t-shirt from behind. "I'm going to be a saint and assume that you only threatened to remove the nephew I just found out has been abused for the past thirteen years from my custody to calm me down so I wouldn't demolish my entire tower, and that's the only reason I'm not kicking you out into the streets and revoking your SHIELD access. Believe me, it won't happen again. The next time you even breathe about taking Harry away from me I will take it as a threat to his life and I will kill you. Do you understand me?"

Steve stood silent, weighing, and Tony silently dared him to disagree, to push for an argument. Punching into the supersoldier's goody-two-shoes face would do a lot to alieviate some of his agitation, Tony was sure.

The Captain did not oblige. "Sure. I understand."

Tony slapped on a chipper expression. "Great!" he clapped his hands, tuning toward the bar. "I need a drink. Anyone else? Merlot? Vodka, Natasha? Anybody?"

"Anthony."

Fighting down his irritation, Tony turned, polite curiosity on his face. "Whadya want, Loki? Tequila?"

Loki pointed to an armchair as it inched its way over to him. "Sit."

Tony stood, weighing his options. On one hand, he quite wanted to tell Loki where he could shove his orders and then drink himself into a stupor. On the other hand, getting completely wasted wasn't a wise choice to make with a kid in the house, and Loki would probably use the opportunity to turn him into something small and amphibious. Additionally, Tony knew he'd need their help, if for no other reason than because Harry was a teenager with issues and Tony wasn't the most emotionally present at the best of times. Though of course he would do what he could to change that. Harry came first. Any natural inclinations or tendencies that interfered with that objective would have to be dealt with.

Which meant no to that drink.

Then there was that plan that had only been half-formed at the back of his mind. He would need them for at least a part of it. Best not to get on their bad side. Loki especially.

Tony sat, crossing his legs indian-style when the chair inched its way closer to the others. When Loki, because he assumed it was Loki controlling the chair, unless Thor or Nat were holding out on him, decided that he was close enough he fixed him with a supercillious expression.

"Air your troubles."

Tony sighed, unfolding himself and slouching in the chair. The anger had given way to a bone deep tiredness that made thinking a painfully slow process. "I don't even know where to begin. Sorry by the way." He peeled his eyes open to peer around at his teammates. "For snapping. I didn't mean to attack you guys or anything. I honestly stopped thinking for a minute there. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

"You're fine, Stark," Clint offered. "We wouldn't really be the Avengers if we couldn't handle a temper tantrum, would we?"

"Ay, Friend Stark. My brother had us well protected. Had your path of destruction extended beyond this room, I am confident that the fire of your rage would not have been match for Mjolnir."

Tony huffed, letting his eyes slide closed. "Thanks Thor."

"As they have said, you have been pardoned." Loki's voice shifted closer. "Now, start at the end. What was the end of the story as you knew it before your nephew showed up today."

"Give me a minute. Nat, Clint, this doesn't make it back to SHIELD, officially or unofficially, and this sure as hell doesn't make it back to Fury."

"The fact that you don't want this to get to Fury tells me it should," Natasha said, eyeing him evenly. The problem with Nat was Tony never knew how she would respond, including now. "But I'll agree for now. No SHIELD, no Fury."

"I wouldn't have said anything anyway." At the looks sent his way, Clint shrugged. "Personally, I think SHIELD should stay away from all kids, special or not."

Tony nodded, settling his head on the back of his chair. "The end of the story as I knew it had Harry, James and Lily dying at the hand of the Dark Lord Voldemort who somehow got blown up himself and died."

"James and Lily were Harry's parents, correct?" Loki, apparently had decided to preside over the discussion.

"Tony," Bruce began gently, "you never said you had a twin."

Tony opened his eyes to find that JARVIS had broken into the secure folder Tony thought the AI had been programmed to not even _see_ , and displayed the last photo they had taken together, the night Charlus had told them there would be no more family visits till the end of the war. Tony and James had again somehow decided to wear the same thing, and had been delighted that their 'twinlepathy' still worked even though they were seventeen and lived worlds apart. They both stood grinning at the camera, arms looped around each others necks, the camera's flash glinting off a corner of James' glasses. That was the last time they'd been happy like that. Tony swallowed hard.

"James and I weren't twins, technically. Our parents were two sets of twins that decided to get hitched. Our mothers thought it was a good idea to get pregnant at the same time. They managed it, and James and I grew up twins-but-not-twins."

"Genetically, you were." Bruce's voice held a note of scientific wonder, and Tony fought back a grin. He could almost guess what would come next. "What was that like?"

Tony snickered.

"Dr., satisfy your scientific urges later. Tony, who is the Dark Lord?"

His laughter dried up in his throat. That was a not-fun topic. Tony glared at nothing in particular before he ran a hand over his face. He really needed that drink. "He called himself Lord Voldemort. There was a taboo spell placed on the name, and anytime someone said it, his followers would show up, and kill whoever was around. Kill or torture depending on their mood, and you've never been tortured until you've been magically tortured, I can tell you. If you were really lucky, Voldie would show up himself and then that was a whole other ballgame. His campaign centered around blood purity, the idea that those who came from purely magical families were superior to others. Those 'purebloods' who chose to mingle or tolerate 'halfbloods' those with one magical parent, or muggleborn, those with no magical parents, were considered traitors to magic. Muggleborns were killed on the spot or whisked away to secret torture chambers. Their bodies would be dumped in the streets with the Dark Mark floating above it, so you'd know exactly who did it. Squibs were dirt, little more than slaves and cattle. They were not to be killed, but could be traded and bred out. My uncle, my father's twin, explained it to us minutes after that photo was taken. James knew some of it, but they'd been keeping me in the dark. Father knew, because Uncle could never keep a secret from him, and Mother apparently knew because her family had claimed loyalty to Voldie and were searching for wanted to hand her over and were pressuring her sister, James' mum, to turn her over. The Potters refused, and we made it onto the 'kill on sight' list. Up until then, I didn't know I was a secret. No one knew about my dad even being born, so no one knew about me."

"So your uncle told you both that you woold not see each other until the terrorists had been killed."

"Yes." On one hand, Tony found himself thankful that he was so numb. He as sure he would have been an incoherent mess had he the energy to deflect anything. Or maybe not, if Loki continued to lead the conversation.

"Who told you the Potters were dead?"

Here, some of that tingly sort of anger did creep back into the edges of his mind, jolting him enough to speed up his mental processes. "Dumbledore. James had kept me up to date with the news as often as he could through the postal service, but when six weeks passed and I didn't hear from him I flooed over to the house. There wasn't a house. There was a wall left standing and scorchmarks all over looked like fire had ravaged the entire thing and half the stairs were blown up. I got upstairs to the nursery and it's gone, just scorchmarks all over the crib all Harry's baby things all thrown about so I left. I Flooed back home then I flooed to Dumbledore's office and he looked so shocked, he called me James and for a split second there was something there, something behind his eyes and I screamed for him to tell me where James was. Where Harry was. Lily even. He got real sad and told me they'd died. The Dark Lord had ambushed the house and disappeared."

"Did he spell you?" Loki asked, eyes intent.

"No, but he tried to."

"Let me see." Lokie stepped forward, knelt right in front of Tony's chair and pulled him forward.

"What? Loki what - "

"I said let me _see_."

Loki gripped the back of his neck and for a split second Tony had the thought _tooclosetooclosetouchingmenotouchingme_ before the room around him faded away to a very different place.

 _"You were supposed to protect them! He said you'd perform the spell yourself! How could you let them die!"_

 _Dumbledore hung his head, one aged hand moving beneath his beard where he leaned on his desk, face shadowed in the gloom created b the early afternoon sun striking only half of the office. "I am so sorry, my dear boy. Voldemort grew stronger than I had ever thought possible. My spells were quickly overpowered. James and Lily fought valiantly." The old man's hand twitched, and Tony caught a glimpse of the tip of a wand poking through the beard's grey strands. With a yell, Tony leapt aside not knowing or caring if the spell had left the wand already._

 _"You mean to spell me? How dare you!"_

 _"My dear boy, it is only a calming spell. I do not know where you came form, but flooing in your state would surely lead to you ending up somewhere that you hadn't intended. It is still very dangerous for persons like yourself."_

 _"I don't trust you. My father said men like you should be watched religiously and with healthy caution."_

 _Dumbledore chuckled. "He sounds like a Potter."_

 _Tony suddenly realized that the magical world as a whole didn't know he existed, that he'd just revealed himself to someone who had the power to make his life very difficult if he so chose. He should leave, Tony knew he should leave, every sense he had screamed for him to leave, to get as far away from Albus Dumbledore as he could. Not that it would help. He'd already outed himself and now that he was officially the last Potter, there were duties he had to assume, and so now they surely would know about him. It left him feeling distinctly uncomfortable. 'James was meant for this, not me!'_

 _Tony had the crushing realization that he was the last_ _ **anything**_ _. He was the last Stark, the last son of a dead line, the last defense against a board of directors that were more concerned for their pockets than they were his father's company. He couldn't do this! It wasn't supposed to be him!_

 _"Perhaps I may offer a word of advice?"_

 _Tony glared at the man suspiciously, not entirely sure why he hadn't thrown himself through the floo a minute ago like his instincts were telling him to. "Perhaps. I'll decide if it's advice or not, however."_

 _"Fair enough. It seems to me you have a quandary on your hands. You've lived life in the shadows and while you have been groomed to take over the Family's affairs should the need ever arise, you face the dual dilemna of being the last in the Family as well as a Squib. One would crush anyone. Two is just a cruel hand of fate. My advice to you, young Mr. Potter, is to take time to grieve. The war is over, the goblins can handle the bulk of your affairs. When you are ready to surface and face the world, I can promise you it will not have burned down in your absence."_

 _The man smiled at him, and although Tony was sorely tempted to choke the man with his own beard, he could not deny that his words were valid. The goblins were good at working unsupervised. They had independently made some investments with his own personal vault he never would have chanced but couldn't deny the profitability of. The Potter vaults would be fine in their hands. Plus, it's not like anyone could steal from them. With James, Lily and Harry dead, their personal vaults and trusts would dissolve into the larger Potter vaults. Their Wizengamot seats were safe as well, as Dotheby line had been the Potter proxy for years. Tony could take some time to grieve, prepare himself for the scandalous headlines, dig through the vaults for as many protective garments as he could and even go off to the Continent to get some made. He could take the time. Everything would be fine._

 _"Okay."_

 _"There's a good lad."_

Tony decided, right then and there, that being so close to Loki was a complicated experience. For one, the trickster had a lower-than-normal body temperature, as in he very nearly felt dead. If the cold grip on the back of his neck wasn't enough to confuse his senses, then Loki's eyes would. Tony knew, intellectually, that Loki was technically an alien. However, that did not prepare him to see what looked to be entire galaxies floating around his irises, or for them to flare with sudden brightness when Loki grinned.

"Oh, he's _good_." He rose from his crouch, leaving Tony to frantically rub the back of his neck. Loki shot him an amused grin before sinking into a suddenly there armchair. Tony was not one to knock others' superiority complexes (unless they clashed with his) but even he thought Loki's throne-like seat was a bit much. He said so. Loki ignored him. "It wasn't a spell, per se. He'd layered a compulsion charm into his voice. Terribly clever and difficult to learn. He seemed to be a man used to being listened to, and no wonder. What is his office, Stark?"

"He's the headmaster at the magical school for Great Britain, He's the Supreme Mugwump - "

"What? -"

"Yes, it's a thing. It means he's in charge of the court system. He's also the Head of the International Confederation of Wizards. It's like the UN, except magical."

Loki practically purred. "Oh, a very clever spider indeed."

Steve spoke up. "Loki, don't be mean. Share with the class." Tony had almost forgotten he was there.

"Dumbledore has positioned himself into the most prominent positions of power in the magical world. We can assume he did it by much the same way he got Tony out of his office, with a compulsion charmlacing his words," Natasha answered.

"Not only has he maneuvered himself into a position others would be hard-pressed to remove him from, he's made it so that no one would want to, and if any did, they would have to fight against their own to do so. He would never have to lift a finger." Loki threw his legs over the arm of his chair, and Tony got the distinct impression that he was enjoying this. "As the head of the wizarding UN, he's seen as the one responsible for keeping the peace. Were there any recent wars he took part in, Tony?"

"Uh, he defeated Grindenwald in early 19-something."

"Grindenwald?" Cap had that funny look on his face, the one that meant he was trying to remember something. "I'm sure I've heard that name."

"Apparently, he was Hitler's magical buddy. They had the same ideals, hung out at the same parties, that sort of thing. Grindie was the German version of Voldie, except he preferred to do all his killing himself."

"So he saves the world, and is vaunted to the height of international power. You can bet he purported himself appropriately humble for the occasion. And then he somehow becomes head of the magical courts, easy as you please. Was that the order it happened?" Loki asked, eyes on the ceiling.

"Uh, yes, actually. Milicent Bagnold stepped down as Minister of Magic and people wanted him to step in and fill the post. He did fill in as interim Minister, but insisted that he wanted to focus on his post as Professor at Hogwarts. He was always a seat holder, and when the previous Supreme Mugwump died of old age and the vote went up, he won by a landslide."

"Of course the magical people would feel safest with the defeater of Grindenwald in charge of their court system. Never mind the fact that he was teaching their precious little ones. I'd wager that when the previous headmaster retired or died, Dumbledore humbly ascended the chain of command to the top of the ladder." Loki's eyes met Tony's. "Am I right?"

"Eerily so. Could you reas his mind through mine or something?" If so, that would be incredibly creepy.

Loki grinned. "No, I'm simply very good at spotting lies, and that man is filled with them. The question now remains: what did he want Harry for?"

"Bruce sucked in a breath. "Because of course he would have had to kept Harry away from Tony for a reason. And not just away from Tony, but away from anyone who would have stood in the way of his plans."

"Whatever Dumbledore had planned for Harry at the very least required that he follow instructions given without complaint. Tony, do you know who you grew up with?"

Tony had to shut his eyes to quench the wave of hatred that coursed though him at that question. " _Petunia._ " He wasn't exactly sure why, but he absolutely loathed the idea of Petunia raising Harry. Something about it set his teeth on edge.

"Ok. When you're calm, I need you to tell us everything you know about this Petunia."

Intellectually, Tony knew Loki viewed this as a puzzle to solve, and Tony appreciated his detachment from it all because they _all_ couldn't be tense and hungry for blood. Thor had been uncharacteristically silent for the duration of the conversation but there was the faintest scent of ozone in the air and Tony just hoped the thunderer remembered that they were in a tower before he let his lightning loose. Bruce had taken to destroying a stack of magazines about a minute ago and if he knew anything at all about Clint and Natasha it was that they were silently counting down the minutes until they found out they could kill someone. Steve was probably just angry on principle.

"Petunia is Lily's older sister. She married a massive humanoid creature that was just as closeminded as she was, and they had a massive baby her husband had to have carried because there was no _way_ it came out of Petunia." The holographic screen suddenly flared back to life, showing a newspaper clipping from _The Surrey Times_ announcement section. The entire top half of the paper had been taken up, a photo of a incredibly overweight man sweatily beaming at the camera, one pudgy hand clutching his wife's shoulder, the horsefaced woman clutching a very healthy newborn who seemed ready to burst into tears. **'Drillmaster Dursley Welcomes Son!'** read the headline, and Tony glared. He remembered the letter James had sent him in the weeks after Petunia and Lily had given birth. She'd apparently sent her sister a hateful letter detailing how her perfectly normal son was healthy and whole while Harry had been underweight and collicy the first few weeks, 'as proof of his and your freakishness!' There was no way a woman that hateful had treated baby Harry with any level of kindness.

"Drillmaster? Are they kidding?" Clint had his head tilted to the side, squinting. "How did they eve - "

"Barton, I will shoot you." Clint took one look at Natasha's profile - she hadn't even turned from watching Bruce tear magazine pages into tiny little squares - and subsided.

"She was hateful and proud even as a child, according to James, who got his info from Lily. She called Lily a freak regularly, and it was only until after Harry was born that Lily stopped trying to reconcile with her. I cannot say that I can picture her hitting Harry, but shoving him away from her son, not allowing him to touch anything that belonged to her precious Dudley? - "

"Dudley?"

"Clint, shut up."

" - I can imagine that. I doubt she ever showed him the slightest kindness. Dr. Cho says there's definitely been early-onset malnutrition, but beyond that it's difficult to say which injuries he sustained at Hogwarts and in their care."

"Hogwarts? You have got to be - ow!"

Three pillows had all hit Clint at once. The man peered over the edge of one, holding them to his chest. "No fair."

"I did warn you," Natasha snipped primly. Beside her, Bruce grinned into his magazine.

"Yeah, but you didn't even throw them. Loki did. With magic!"

Natasha shrugged. "Teamwork." Clint sulked.

"If we could get back to the issue at hand?" Loki drawled. "We can assume that Dumbledore arranged for Petunia to raise Harry because he was sure that the situation would create a pawn with the desired disposition for his plans to commence smoothly. Natasha, anything to add? You've watched Harry like a hawk since he got here and you and Clint have training in this area."

Natasha shifted, shoving a foot underneath the other thigh. Tony pretended not to see her socked foot poke Bruce, the same way he pretending not to grin. They were _so_ dating.

"Harry's displaying classic signs of neglect. From his appearance alone we can assume he wasn't cared for properly. His clothing is more than likely a combination of hand-me-downs from his much larger cousin and things Petunia was able to get from the British equivalent of the Salvation Army. He squints, so either his glasses aren't prescription or are severely out of date. His hair hasn't been combed in weeks, if not longer, and needs a cut. Its very probable that no one taught him to bathe or that he's been trained to see them as luxuries. He's most likely used to doing the least necessary in order to avoid detection and not be accused of taking excesses. Also, Tony," and here she waited until Tony met her eyes, "he doesn't think he can stay here."

"What?" That was the last thing he had expected her to say. "Of course he's staying here. Where the hell else is he going to go?"

"You're not listening. I didn't say you don't want him here, I said he doesn't think he can stay here. He watched you bicker with Steve, Clint and Bruce and for the barest second he got his hopes up. I'm going to have to teach him how to lie because his eyes are a dead giveaway. There was a moment where he realized you were all messing with each other and he thought 'This is nice. I'd love it here.' Then his whole face fell, like he knew that was wishful thinking. You're going to have to address that, and the sooner the better."

"Yeah, sure, I would, but I won't because that's stupid and doesn't make sense."Tony snapped. "Why would the kid come all the way here if he thought he couldn't live with me?"

"Sir, if I may, would a parchment certificate beginning with the heading _**'Declaration of Emancipation for one Harridon James Potter'**_ clarify the matter at hand any?"

Tony's stomach plummeted. "JARVIS, where did you find that?"

"In a gold-embossed envelope bearing a peculiar seal in Master Harry's luggage. The bags arrived about an hour ago, and I have just completed the required security checks."

"Send it up."

"On it's way, sir. There is a similar envelope there addressed to one Anthony Edward Ignacious Potter-Stark. I assume that is you, sir?" It wasn't supposed to be possible but Tony could swear JARVIS sounded amused.

"It is, JARVIS."

"Very well sir. Updating all pertinent information to - "

"Cease and desist JARVIS. That is a direct command."

"Sir? Should I not update all pertinent information to reflect your true full name?"

"You should not, JARVIS. That is correct. No updating. All files stay the same. Do you copy?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good man." Tony leaned back in his seat, releasing the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. That had been close.

The AI hesitated. "Sir, is this a secret identity?"

Tony laughed, hard and loud and until he couldn't breathe. JARVIS had sounded so serious, so honestly earnest and eager to help, pronouncing it like it shouldn't be said out loud, Tony didn't have the heart to tell him no. "I tell you what, buddy. It very well could be in short order, so let's keep it between just us for now, okay?"

JARVIS sounded almost relieved. "Alright, sir."

Tony looked up to see Bruce chuckling, no green in sight. "I get the feeing JARVIS did that on purpose."

Tony shurgged. "I don't think we'll ever know."

"Friends, JARVIS has presented us with another problem, an added layer to this puzzle we solve this night." All eyes turned to Thor, who had sat silently through the conversation so far. "What is a certificate of emancipation."

"I'll take that one," Bruce chimed in. "It's not called that here in the US, but emancipation for minors is when they have been given the rights and priviledges of an adult."

"I dont think Dumbledore would have allowed that, and if he couldn't stop it you can bet he didn't tell Harry about it." Steve leaned forward. "Not unless he wanted Harry to self-destruct, but that doesn't seem to make sense."

"No," Loki murmured, brow knotted. "Dumbledore wouldn't want Harry to self-destruct..." he trailed off. "No, not self-destruct." Loki sat up, and this time Tony could see his eyes were blazing. "Dumbledore means to kill him."

Tony's insides turned to ice.

With a shout, Loki shot up to pace, his chair dissolving into green smoke. "Not kill him, he means to have the child kill himself!"

"What?"

"Why would you - "

"It does make a certain type -"

"Oh that old man is _brilliant - "_

"BROTHER!" Thor boomed over the chorus of voices. The air around them buzzed with electricity. "Explain. Now."

" _Think_ , the lot of you! We've established that Dumbledore wanted to secure the child for his own nefarious purposes. He wasn't raising him to be a pampered picture of civilized mixed blood for the pureblood circles. He wanted a lamb for the slaughter. Raise the child in seclusion, teach him not to trust adults and to figure out his problems on his own. Keep secrets, Harry, never let them see you hurt. Be thankful for every small mercy and every tiny act of kindness, no matter how simple. Throw him into a situation where he's overwhelmed and the first act of kindness sent his way seems like a lifeline. We can assume Petunia never let a single magical near him in his life, so the first time Harry was ever exposed to magic was - "

"Hogwarts," Tony said hoarsely. "Students get their Hogwrts letter by owl post the summer after they turn eleven. There's a professor that comes from the school and takes the students to buy their supplies. Petunia wouldn't have been able to stop it, even without Dumbledore's meddling. Harry's name has been down on the school list since shortly before he was born. It's how they figure out who have magic or not. James was ecstatic."

"Do children never show other signs of magic until they get to school?" Bruce wanted to know.

"Most kids perform some sort of accidental magic, levitating a cookie jar, slamming a door in a tantrum. Harry once silenced James and Sirius for a whole hour once. They were trying to sing him to sleep." Tony tried to focus on the cuteness of the memory James had sent him instead of the sinking dread he could feel clawing at his insides. Loki's words made sense, too much sense.

"So let's say Harry's an average magical child, which I highly doubt for the record. He's used to being mistreated for his magic at the very least, and is suddenly thrust into a world of other people _just like him_ who like him, don't think he's a freak and he gets to go to school to actually get _better_ at his magic. It almost seems to good to be true! He's _instantly_ bonded to the world. He would give his _left arm_ to protect it, his real home - "

"But protect it from what, Loki? Dumbledore said Voldemort disappeared. Plus, Harry's a _kid_ \- "

"Except he's not gone." Loki's eyes were flashing and Tony suddenly realized that the calm, detached demeanor had only been a facade. Loki was livid. "Voldemort's not gone, at least not completely. It's the only thing that makes sense. And it doesn't matter to Dumbledore that Harry's a _child._ In fact, it makes his job as orchestrator much easier. Imagine having to convince an adult to sacrifice themselves?"

"If Dumbledore knows the Voldie isn't gone, then it stands to reason that since Harry was the only one to survive that night, that he'd want Harry to stand up to him again whenever he decides to show his murderous face again." Clint shoved the pillows away from him, crossing over to the bar to pull himself up into the half empty wine rack."Your rack better not drop me, Stark."

"It wasn't meant for humans, Barton," he threw back, too tired to snark properly. "So Dumbledore knew that Voldie would be back somehow and means for Harry to sacrifice himself for the wizarding world." He needed to say it. He needed to say it so his brain could pick it apart and find a flaw because it could not be true. It couldn't be.

It sure as hell wasn't going to be.

"To know that, he would have had to have foreknowledge of some sort. Are there fortune tellers in the magical world, Tony?"

"Seers. The real ones can read your whole life. Very few of them are true seers though, and fewer give prophecies."

"So Dumbledore had a prophecy that told him that Harry could or would stop the dark lord. He knew the Potters were on the dark lord's hitlist so he didn't protect them like he should have." Bruce seemed more tired than angry. "Voldie attacks the Potters and something goes wrong - "

"Or right," Natasha corrected. "We don't know."

" - and Harry survives."

"You can bet Dumbledore let the world know Harry defeated Voldie. He'd need them to love the kid, to look up to him so he'd feel that pressure as soon as he walks in." Clint shifted in his perch. "By the way, Tony, the kid's depressed. It's not bad, yet, but he's been under so much weight that he just doesn't know how to be happy. Keep that in mind."

"Thanks."

"The abuse was also mild, and purely emotional and physical. No one touched him."

"You're sure."

"I'm sure."

Tony couldn't believe how much tension leaked out of him at that statement, it was like a tap and Tony was moderately sure the human body didn't have a tension tap, but Bruce was the body-science guy so he'd reserve his final word until after he got the man back to the lab. "Thank you, Clint."

"Don't mention it."

"Friends." They turned to see Thor cautiously approaching a flashing blue light near the elevators. "What is this?"

"That's the dumbwaiter, Thor. I think Harry's luggage may be inside." Tony sent a tiny wave of thanks to Natasha, who cocked her head to the side. Let her analyze him, he was too tired to care.

Sure enough, after Steve showed Thor how to acess the dumbwaiter ("Just wave at it, see?" "This is a clever waiter, fit for the halls of Asgard!") they lugged Harry's things into the makeshift meeting room. Tony didn't know what he'd expected.

"If all of his things can fit into a backpack and a school trunk, I think someone needs to volunteer for shopping duty." Clint quipped from the air vent above. Tony agreed, but didn't have the energy to say so.

"I'll go," Natasha said, eyes on Tony. He didn't care. "I'll take the black card and go crazy."

"Sure. Save some for me though. The fun stuff. You clothes and shoes, me fun stuff."

"Sure." She made a show of looking him over. "You look awful. Do you want me to shoot you when this is all done?"

Tony eyed her, unsure of how he was supposed to respond.

"With the night-night gun. You'll only be out for about twelve hours, tops."

Still unsure, Tony blinked. "Uh, sure. As long as it's not permanent or anything, right?"

"Twelve hours, Stark. Tops."

Loki had had enough of the pleasantries, apparently. With a wave of his hand the contents of Harry's backpack floated in the air. There were three changes of clothes that had Clint swearing in his air duct, a bag of odd coins Tony explained were magical currency and seven of the latest tabloid magazines, all with Tony on the front. Natasha's comments from earlier came back to mind, and Tony forced himself to focus. _'Look at this with an outside eye. Like a kid who's not used to things going his way.'_

Four of the magazines featured Tony leaving some building or exiting a car with either Pepper or Happy beside him, all with a drink in hand. _'I look busy. Maybe too busy for a kid? Oh, well that answers that then.'_ Beneath one such photo read the caption **'No kids for Tony Stark!'** _"I don't do kids!" he tells us! Exclusive!'_ Had he really said that? Had he been drunk?

The other three covers featured both him and Pepper, one shot in which they were both smiling at something, getting ice cream from a street vendor downtown, the headline proclaiming "ON AGAIN!", the other two with them leaving a restaurant together, both frowning, glaring red words spelling out "OFF AGAIN!".

"If I were Harry, I'd think these meant I was unreliable and uncommitted and that he shouldn't expect to ge comfortable." Tony swore. Nat was right. He hated when that happened. "I am definitely talking to him in the morning."

Aside from a pen and a broken quill, the only other item of note in Harry's bag was a photo album. Something about that seemed deeply personal, and Tony snatched it from Loki's hands before the other could pry. "Let's put these things back, yeah? I'm assuming the letter JARVIS mentioned is in the trunk. There's nothing else to see here."

Loki obliged, and soon Harry's trunk stood open. It seemed the child had planned to go shopping at some point, since the only items of clothing in the trunk were his school uniform. The Gryffindor necktie sent a wave of nostalgia through Tony, and he had to fight not to turn away. Packed tight in a corner were textbooks from the previous years, shrunken and tied with what looked to be shoelaces. James had told Tony that there were house elves at Hogwarts, and he could imagine Harry approaching one of the excitable creatures, asking for his books to be shrunken. Of course he could have asked an older student to do it, but a house elf would keep the secret.

There's a miniaturized broomstick, and Tony quickly snatched that from Bruce before the other accidentally broke it. He spent a tense minute making sure he hadn't damaged it, before he turned to Bruce. "Sorry about that. It's a broomstick. A racing broom. They're very fragile. I broke one of James' when it was miniature like this and he was inconsolable until my uncle bought him a new one."

Bruce's expression cleared. "I understand. How does it get so tiny?" He peered at it curiously, unconsciously tapping his fingers together like he did when he's waiting on an experiment to run. "Does it really fly?"

Tony grinned, glad he hadn't offended his friend. "Shrinking charm. And they sure do fly. I haven't been paying much attention to the market at all, but I think I might have shares in the company that makes these." Tony held the little thing up to his eyes, unable to make out a name etched into the handle. "That tail looks familiar."

"Doesn't he have anything, I dunno, fun?" Barton asked from overhead. Tony looked up to find him leaning half of his torso out of the vent so he could see properly. Everything else in Harry's trunk was either school supplies or classroom instruments, and in one case a particularly ripe potions kit. No casual clothes, no books or magazines, nothing to show that the fourteen year old boy that owned it had a life outside of school.

It was depressing.

Loki lowered the items back into the trunk, and Tony snagged the two official looking envelopes from the mix. Of course, when JARVIS had said they were gold-embossed, Tony knew they would look nice, but this was something else. Apparently, Gringotts pulled out all the stops for this missive. Before Tony had even cracked the seal on his envelope he heard Bruce ask, "Tony, what's the Triwizard Tournament?"

Tony froze. He hoped Bruce was messing with him, even though he knew the man wouldn't, even if he had had prior knowledge of that damned competition. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know where to look. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bruce reading over Natasha's shoulder, the redhead holding the large ornate certificate scroll up so they and Clint could all see. "He got invited to participate in the Tri-Wizard tournament?" he asked hopefully. He prayed Bruce said yes. The alternative...

"Uh, no. It says 'Declaration of Emancipation for one Harridon James Potter' Due to your successful selection as the fourth champion in the TriWizard Tournament, you have been declared an emancipated minor and have received all rights and privileges granted to an adult, without reservations. This certificate is hereby binding and valid in all states, countries and provinces of the known world and any unknown worlds, both magical and non. Signed Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, yadda yadda yadda on this fifteenth day of October. This is, uh, dated last year." The man sounded so apologetic on that last part Tony didn't have the heart to laugh. "Is that a bad thing? It doesn't sound like it's a bad thing, but I get the feeling there's something bad about it..."

"The TriWizard Tournament," Tony began, and he had to pause to make sure his voice wouldn't crack. This was just too much for one night. "The TriWizard Tournament is a competition between three international schools, meant to test the mettle of the competitors. Each school would select their best student from the top years, usually, and they would all compete in a series of tasks. The problem with the tasks is that they were insanely dangerous. It wasn't unheard of for competitors to be maimed or killed in pursuit of one thousand galleons and eternal glory. It hadn't been held in about one hundred years because the ICW voted against holding it. One year a champion committed suicide before the second task. The year after, they all did. The Tri-Wizard Tournament went down in history as a bloody gauntlet better left buried. Until last year, it seems."

"Why would they resurrect a dead game out of nowhere?" Steve asked. "That's just asking for trouble, something that dangerous."

"But you're all missing something vital, you mortals!" Loki stood there, a mad grin on his face, clutching what looked to be another certificate in his grasp. "Harry was chosen as the _fourth_ contestant in a _tri_ -wizard competition. Someone wanted him in that competition, wanted him to face those challenges, wanted him to _win_!" Here he spun the certificate in his hands around, and everyone could see the embellished 'Congratulations Champion!' across the top in that awful medieval script. It went on to list the details of the tournaments, the dates and specifics of the tasks, the other contestants, and there, at the bottom "you kept your wits about you even in an unplanned challenge when the Tournament trophy malfunctioned and whisked you and your fellow Hogwarts Champion Cedric Diggory offsite after you nobly offered to share the glory of your win with him, although he tragically succumbed to the wounds he sustained facing the sphinx and the acromantula before the malfunction corrected itself - ". They had made it seem like a minor glitch in the program but Tony had a nagging feeling in his gut, one made worse by the look on Loki's face. Tony didn't know what was worse, the sinking feeling in his stomach or the fact that he had no idea what an acromantula was but it terrified him anyway.

"The trophy malfunctioned? That's bull right there." Clint had climbed down to get a good look at the declaration. "That's one too many glitches for me."

"Because it wasn't a glitch, Barton. How does a fourteen year old make it through a competition known for reducing much older students to quivering heaps of flesh?" Loki eyed the archer expectantly.

"He has help, and lots of it."

"Yeah, I can understand helping him not die," Steve ventured. "Helping him win is another thing entirely. Who would do that?"

"Someone who has an vested interest in Harry ending up offsite no one knows where for who knows how long. Surely, any champion that made it to the trophy would have sufficed, the various tasks having proven their magical strength, but this mastermind _wanted_ Harry to win. It's the only reason he was entered into the competition. Think, you mortals! Who would want that?"

"Not Dumbledore," Clint guessed, "unless he wanted Harry to be used to bring Voldieshorts back."

"Are we sure he didn't want that?" Steve asked.

"No, we're not." Natasha cut them off, one hand on Tony's shoulder. He didn't realize he'd leaned forward that far, and was seriously contemplating just face planting on the floor. This was all. Too. Much. "Voldie's the one who set it up, got Harry help on the inside and had him all to himself when the trophy glitched. What we don't know is what happened and how Harry got out alive."

"Wait, Voldie's back already?"

"We already established that he never really left, Cap. Keep up."

Loki hummed, far too amused with the entire situation for Tony's liking. "Did the boy have any recent injuries that you could see? This declaration is dated less than a month ago."

"His left ankle is a bit tender, could be a recent sprain. And he's got a scar on the inside of his right elbow. Looks like it was a rough cut."

Loki threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, these little men and their magic. I'll tell you what happened. Voldemort got Harry to wherever and then he used Harry's blood in a ritual. Probably a strengthening one, which is why he had to go through all of that trouble to begin with. He had to go behind Dumbledore's back and help the boy in the most inconscpicuous way possible because he couldn't let anyone know it was him, because he wasn't strong enough to withstand an attack should someone like Dumbledore come calling. Once the ritual was done, he probably talked. The truly evil ones like to do that, talk and talk until their prey gets away. But I can bet you, like you mortals say, that that's what happened. Voldemort is back at full strength, and he used Harry's blood to get there."

Tony sprung up from his chair and made a beeline for the door. His vision tilted, but he pressed on. He just had to get to ...somewhere. Anywhere but that room. Away from those voices and those answers and the biting, pulling, dragging feeling clogging him up from the inside. He had to get away. He had to.


	4. Chapter 4

Headaches were a common ailment for someone who spent as much time staring at screens, holographic or not. Tony could handle a headache. Hangovers were a bit more rare, but Tony could handle a hangover. He'd had his fair share (probably less, to be honest) and then some of nasty hangovers. He'd even had a few that made him question his sanity and swear off alcohol altogether. Those never stuck, obviously, but it in the thick of it he had been sure they would.

Never, ever, had Tony had a hangover like this.

Every single nerve, every single one of them in his entire body, seemed to have migrated to his head. Not only were there too many nerve endings in his head, but they were all on fire. With acid. To make matters worse, his brain was caught, completely against it's will Tony was sure, in a mosh pit at the most hand-core rock concert ever hosted in a human cranium. There was screaming involved. Tony was fairly sure it was him.

"It's not that bad, Stark. Take a deep breath."

Tony knew, somehow, that Natasha had whispered at him. However, those ruthless nerve endings took her soft voice as a personal assault and throbbed. Tony was fairly sure his groan could fit in happily in some terrorist's torture chamber.

"Try to sit up. You need fluids."

Tony grit his teeth in agony. There may have been some writhing going on as well, he wasn't sure. Choice swearwords were fighting to leave his mouth, but he couldn't find the control to move his jaw, so they just sounded like muffled but irritated grumblings underlain by pain.

A door swung open - where was he? - and Tony was sure he felt when Bruce walked in.

"Clint says he's not doing well?" A soft thunk on the bed that jarred him,and Tony knew the man had brought his medicine bag. 'Not that kind of doctor' his left foot.

"No, he's in extreme pain. FittSimmons reported the dendrotoxin completely harmless in humans. Do you have a theory?"

"I have several." Tony flinched, not expecting Bruce's voice to come from so near his head. Wasn't Natasha laying next to him? He was sure he could feel the bed dip lightly on the side her voice came from, which would mean Bruce was _very_ close to her...maybe even _leaning over_ her. Tony had a horrible thought, in the brief silence in his bedroom only broken by his way-too-loud breathing that there had to be a reason Bruce, who was near fanatical when it came to a patient, hadn't moved to check his pulse or poke him with a needle yet. And was Natasha moving? It was faint but just enough if they were -

"You two had better not be making out while I'm dying!" It took every ounce of energy he had but Tony didn't care. No way was he going to lay here and let them just -

"There he is." Bruce sounded relieved. "If your mouth didn't run off Hulk was taking you straight to SHIELD."

"Good to know you can still jump to conclusions in extreme pain, Stark." Nat sounded far too cheerful for Tony's liking.

"You're mean," was all he could manage at the moment.

"And you're magic." Bruce had knelt on the bed now, doing something doctor-y that required Tony's arm and probably a needle, but Natasha hadn't moved and Tony desperately wanted to open his eyes to see just how that was working out - _not dating his left foot_ \- but he forced himself to focus on reminding Bruce that he was a Squib without magic, glad that his nerves had decided to slowly migrate back to their proper places.

"No magic," however, was all his mouth was able to get out.

"No, maybe not enough to be considered a wizard, but you've got enough to avoid being blown up by your rather spectacular failed modifications and piss off this completely unharmful dendrotoxin. It's probably how you survived Afganistan, actually."

Well, Tony knew that. "Duh." There was a pinch of a needle into the crook of his arm as Tony lay there, smugly. And he'd managed to keep it from SHIELD, too. That there was a primary concern, though. "No Fury."

"No, I don't think Fury needs to know this, either." Tony could tell by the way Bruce's voice changed directions that he'd turned to look at Natasha, and wondered again how they expected anyone to believe they weren't together.

"I've decided Fury doesn't need to know anything that happens in Stark Tower. We've saved the world, we can handle living together."

By the silence, Tony knew they were making goo-goo eyes at each other. He rolled his eyes. Or tried to.

"I can tell your head isn't killing you anymore, Tony. Open up, let's see how sensitive you are to lights."

Bruce was back, the slight heat from his tiny light warming a trail across his face as he waited for Tony to open his eyes. Tony was definitely not opening his eyes. "No."

Bruce snorted. "Okay, but Harry's going to be disappointed."

Natasha hissed something but Tony couldn't hear. He'd suddenly remembered everything that happened last night and Harry and his legs had bent and turned before his brain could move his arms and he was upright, the edge of his bed swimming in his blurry vision, the bathroom door like a gaping hole beyond that but a stabbing pain shot up his legs and he felt the needle in his arm tug and his back spasmed and Tony knew he screamed and then he didn't know anything else.

He swam back to consciousness to find three voices whispering across the room.

"We do _not_ mention Harry until we have Tony out of the clear, understood?"

What?

"And we don't mention that Tony's having a reaction to the Night-Night shot to any of the others. Thor'll want to hug him and Loki'll blow a fuse. Harry's got him worried enough as it is." That was Barton. Since when was Barton allowed in his bedroom?

"You think he's worried? He doesn't look ..."

"Use your eyes, doc. He's pacing. He's been reading the same page of that cooking magazine since breakfast and Steve's reported him sneaking in every hour to check the kid's pulse, which, by the way, is still worryingly weak. I know you don't want to strain Tony in his condition, but if we don't find out whats wrong with the kid soon - "

"Understood." Nat sounded tense. "Let's focus on getting Stark's levels up so he's cognizant. Bruce?"

"I've given him a double regulation infusion of hydration. If he continues to improve at this rate, he'll be stable enough to move in two hours."

Tony decided, as he experimentally moved his right arm, which did not move in the slightest, that he had had enough of people keeping secrets from him in his own house. "What is wrong with Harry?" came out more like "whhong hree", but Tony was gratified that they all moved toward him anyway.

"There went that plan," Clint mumbled on the way over. He flashed the inventor a cheeky grin. "We have got to stop meeting like this, Stark. I already told you, I'm not sharing your bed, no matter how pathetic you look."

Tony ignored Clint's banter and Natasha'a hand on his arm - he'd puzzle over that later. He turned his head - which required more effort than Tony thought possible - to Bruce, who stood fiddling with his pen and watching the beeping machines on his left, if Tony knew the man at all. "Harry?"

"How are you able to do that? Your eyes aren't eve open." Bruce had stepped closer, and Tony wished he could glare at the man. That was not the answer to his question.

"Wh Harry?"

"Bruce..." Nat cautioned.

"Nat he's talking already. His blood pressure is nearly stable and, he's speaking. He's recovering even faster than when he first woke up and we need to know."

"If he reacts like he did last time we may have to wait another four hours for him to wake up. We don't have that kind of time."

"Then we give him all the information. Tony never reacts well to not knowing something. The only reason he's still in bed is because he can't move his body yet."

"Very true, Clint. What's wrong with Harry, Bruce." Tony forced himself to be calm and rational, even round the extra effort it took to speak clearly. Harry was in a house with six superheroes and a formerly mind-controlled villain they were all 80% sure wouldn't kill them. If there was something seriously wrong they would have taken him to a hospital or Loki would have spelled him or something. He calmed his breathing and focused on opening his eyes. Bruce's thinking face came into view slowly, slowly, and Tony wondered if his eyes had been open all the while.

"Bruce." The doctor's eyes snapped up to meet his. "What is wrong with my nephew?"

"He's asleep." Tony noted Nat shifted her weight from the corner of his eye, but Bruce continued. "We're not sure why, but he's asleep, and he doesn't seem to be waking. His pulse was fine at first but it's steadily declined and -"

"How long?" Tony started moving the minute Bruce admitted he didn't know why Harry was still asleep. He yanked the needles out of his arm, kicking the covers off. There was a monitor stuck to his chest above the arc reactor and he yanked that off too. There was something about this situation tickling at his memory, urging him to move, move _now_. He barely stopped from punching Clint in the face when the man tried pressing him back into the bed.

"Tony, you need to rest - "

"How long has he been asleep?"

Clint's eyes, which had been kind-yet stern as he was about to put Tony to bed against his will, clouded over in confusion. "What?"

"How long has Harry been asleep!" They all paused, and Tony clamped down on his agitation. "There's something about this I should remember, and I can't. I need to see Harry, _now_ , but I also need to know how long he's been asleep."

"Two days." Bruce said it like an apology. "You've both been out for the better part of two days. At first we thought there was some connection between the two of you, something to do with magic, but when you woke up and Harry didn't - "

Tony stopped listening, struggling against Clint's hold then grabbing onto the man's arm as he got upright then nearly toppled to the floor. Two days. Weakening heartbeat. This had happened to James.

Clint's arm wrapped around his waist, Nat's hand on his chest now. "Tony you really should -"

"Take me to him now before he dies!"

When Clint placed him down next to Harry's bed, Tony felt his heart seize and stutter to a stop. There, laying on the twin bed added to his room for the occasion, was James, deathly pale and not breathing. A strong hand on his arm shook him, and Tony felt his lungs resume breathing. His vision cleared, the sleek silver curves of the furniture breaking through the gloom in his mind. This wasn't James, this was Harry. Same situation, years apart. Fate was cruel.

"Tony, what is it?"

He looked up, heart hammering now, to see six sets of eyes peering at him. Thor stood, nearly as pale as his brother who lurked at the back of the group, his hard green eyes boring into Tony's. Tony locked eyes, nearly begging.

"Harry has the magic flu. It's not like the wizard's flu, this is, this only happens to magic users when they spend too much time in an environment without magic. James came to spend a week at my house the summer he turned fifteen. He was fine until the second day, he got really sleepy, and the next day he didn't wake up. Mum and Dad weren't there, and I couldn't use the Floo to call his parents. When his dad flooed in the day after, I was terrified. He barely had a pulse. He took us both through the floo and we came out in a hospital and they just took him. Just shot him with spell after spell and he wouldn't wake up and - "

"Tony, focus."Steve's voice cut through the memory, bright flashes of red and blue fading away against the air in room. "James survived, we know that. What does Harry need?"

"Magic." Tony turned to look at Loki again, to find the Asgardian moving towards the bed. "It's like, vibrations. Everything magic vibrates - "

"Including magic users. So Harry's been sending out vibrations and since nothing here is magic the vibrations have been traveling farther and farther."

"Like echolocation," Bruce murmered.

"Or ripples in a pond." Clint sent Loki and Tony a look, then took a step back.

"Quite." Loki pressed Thor back from the bed. "Because there haven't been any answering vibrations, his magic thinks its alone, and seeks to reenter the atmosphere. Which means, you simpletons, get out so I can keep this child from dying."

If Tony hadn't been so focused on the rise and fall of Harry's chest, he might have been impressed by the way everyone nearly sprinted out of the room. OF course they all crowded around the door, but Tony didn't care.

"Stark, you stay." Tony blinked. Had anything else been possible? "Hold his head."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to shock him. You will remember your mediwitches hitting James with many spells as a method of treatment." Tony nodded. "The same thing, except I have much more power at my disposal than they ever could."

Without waiting for Tony to respond, Loki drew his hands together then lay them flat on Harry's chest. A split second before the boy's frame arched off the bed Tony remembered to hold Harry's head, and then the fun began.

Much like a seizure, Harry's muscles all seized up. Unlike a seizure, Harry's body began to change colors. Tony watched his nephew cycle through blue then red then purple before the color changes became too vibrant and frequent for him to follow. He tucked his head against Harry's, praying the childcould hear him.

"Hang on, Harry. You hang on, you hear? Come back to me buddy. You only just got home. Don't leave yet."

It was a full 30 seconds after Loki released Harry from the magic shock that Harry woke up, panting.

Tony nearly cried. "There's my Harry. You're okay, buddy. You gave me a scare there for a minute, but you're okay."

Blurry green eyes swung around, focusing on him as the child squinted. "Dad?"

Something in him moved then, and for a moment Tony couldn't find his voice. "It's your Uncle Tony, Foxtrot. Remember, you came over to my place?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry." Harry blinked, hands clenching in the fabric of his tshirt where Tony had placed them. "Sorry. I remember. I remember, I do, I just - "

"Hey, it's okay." Tony was dimly aware that he held the boy against his chest, but Harry didn't seem to mind and Loki was too busy magicing to say anything against him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine but, uh, kind of shaky? Like I've been running for a really long time?"

"Here, this should help." Harry pitched in Tony's arms as Loki leaned close to tuck the blanket around him, but he quickly settled down, pulling it up to his chest with a shudder.

"This is warm."

"You didn't mention you were cold before." Loki eyed the child intently, eyes roving over him, trying, Tony thought, to find any other symptoms the child might be hiding with his eyes alone.

"Didn't know I was." Harry curled in on himself, eyebrows furrowing as he clenched his eyes shut. "Thanks."

Loki took a deep breath. "How on earth are we supposed to help you, child, if you refuse to tel us what is wrong? Where are you in pain?"

Harry gave what might have been a whimper and curled tighter against Tony's chest. Tony glared at Loki, whose eyes narrowed dangerously.

With a truly impressive turn, Loki stalked to the other side of the room and glared. Then, he moved.

Tony had known in an abstract sort of way, that Loki was dangerous. He'd seen him make illusions and fight with Thor. He'd known that Loki had trained with Thor, sat through the crown prince regaling them of tales of battle, all of which Loki featured prominently in. He'd known, but never known. Loki moved with a grace that spoke death and sex, a combination Tony had always thought Nat had perfected. As it turns out,Loki did it better.

With almost unnatural grace Loki moved, spelling every and anything in the room. Bed, table, chair, carpet, over and over until some items fairly glowed. He sent a ball of fire racing for Harry's blanket that sunk into the fabric before the man had time to blink. The only reason Tony wasn't more alarmed was with every flick of Loki's wrist or jab of his palm, Harry uncoiled just a little bit more. The last spell to hit his blanket uncurled him completely, and it took a whole minute for Tony to realize Harry had gone limp. A quick check assured him Harry was still awake, but Tony was sure, by the look on the teen's face, that Harry'd like it very much if he could stay that way.

An hour later, Loki finally lowered his arms. Tony sat - because hello his knees were pushing forty he was not as young as he looked - with Harry still half draped over him - Bruce had tried convincing him that there was some magical equivalent to oxytocin from almost dying coursing through him and making him clingy but Tony had tuned him out - and tried to convey how impressed he was.

"That was the coolest thing I've ever seen. Even cooler than me, if you can believe it, but only because you did it for Harry."

Loki smirked. "You're welcome. I wager you're feeling better as well?"

Tony paused, caught. Bruce slipped into the room, making a beeline for him, eyes sparkling with barely concealed excitement.

"You look one hundred times better than before. I'd love to get you into the lab; your mineral levels must be off the charts. I don't think I've ever seen you look so - "

"Healthy," Steve butt in. Tony rolled his eyes. "You look good, Stark. Your color's good, and even, you look like you've never missed a night of sleep in your life - "

"You're the picture of health." Natasha flopped onto the bed near his feet. "The media is going to have a field day. _'Tony Stark gets healthy!'_ They'll be banging down the door by tomorrow."

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Whatever. Loki." Loki paused, eyes intent on the hallway beyond the door. Tony'd watched as he'd made himself as inconspicuous as possible and tried to make his escape, but Tony couldn't allow that.

"Yes, Stark."

"Thank you. Seriously. I owe you one."

Loki looked uncomfortable, then promptly disappeared.

"I apologize for my brother, friend Stark - " Thor began, rising.

"No, it's fine Thor. I'll catch up with him later."

"It looks like the light show has the little one all tuckered out." Natasha bent over Harry, who was wide awake, winked, and shot Tony a look. "And Tony may be the picture of health but I'm pretty sure even he needs a nap from all of Loki's mumbo-jumbo. Infirmary duty is over. Let's go watch wrestling."

Steve and Thor shot each other a look and shrugged. As they left, Bruce and Clint shared an amused look.

"That was weak, Tasha," Bruce said, holding the door - that was already wide open, mind you - open for her. "Since when do you watch wrestling?"

"Since the alternative was threatening to shoot you all," she answered primly.

"You could have just asked nicely, you know." Tony heard Bruce counter. They were probably two doors down by now.

"I don't _do_ nice, Bruce." Tony heard Bruce snort, then silence.

Then, so low he almost didn't hear it "Liar."

In the privacy of his own mind Harry screamed.

It wasn't that he was in pain. Loki had somehow taken care of that. It wasn't that he was angry or anything. He'd just woken up with what felt like electricity but he knew was magic shocking him, somehow, and his heart racing and limbs shaking like he'd run a whole marathon. Everyone had been good about it, Tony hadn't been upset, Loki had even given him a really warm blanket, but Harry still didn't know why he'd needed to be shocked to wake up in the first place.

He hated not knowing things he felt he should know.

Still, he couldn't just come out and ask. Well he could, technically, but he didn't know how to go about it. Tony had stayed close and even let him borrow some body heat -it absolutely was not cuddling he was nearly fifteen he didn't need cuddles- and Harry was still getting used to these buildings in the US with air conditioning on all the time, so he was still sort of cold, and he didn't want Tony to push him away if he asked a rude question.

"I bet you want to know what happened. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it myself, so I guess we can deal with it together."

Drat. "Sure, okay." Harry waffled a bit, before sighing. He didn't want to move. Harry shifted, prepared to roll over the man's thigh - it was only weird if he let himself think about it too long - onto the bed itself. Tony's arm tightened across his back, pulling him higher up on his chest, a soft, warm light peering through his soft shirt. Harry didn't want to think about how relieved he felt. He didn't want to think about how good it felt to be held and no have to worry about it being a dream. He pressed his face into the warm muscle cushioning his head - Tony smelt like motor oil and coffee and blueberries, oddly enough - and tried not to remember he was nearly fifteen, and too old for this.

"I just got you back, Harry. Humor your uncle for a little while longer, okay?"

Harry nodded into Tony's shirt. He didn't mind that at all. He felt so safe, so completely safe for the first time he could remember, that if he let himself he would cry. He ignored the few stray tears leaking out of his eyes. They didn't count.

"Apparently you and I have been out for two whole days."

"What!" Harry's head popped up. "We've been asleep for two days?"

"Mmhmm. Apparently I have just enough magic to have a negative reaction to a SHIELD sedative, which one of our housemates dosed me with the night you got here." Tony ran a hand through Harry's hair, and Harry felt himself melt again. "And you had the magic flu. It's not an actual flu," Tony hurried to add just as Harry moved to ask another question. "It's just what they call it when a magic user spends too much time in an environment where there is very little magic. Have you ever heard of echolocation?"

Harry nodded. "Dudley had a book on it once. He tore it up once he saw me reading it."

Tony frowned. "If you like books, I'll buy you a library. All the books you could ever read and no one can take them away from you, but I digress." He actually shook his head,like he had to force himself to focus. Harry suspected he did. "The same thing happened to your dad when he slept over the first time. The mediwitches explained it like echolocation; your magic pulses to send out signals and those signals bounce off of the magic of the things around you. When you're in a place without magic, your magic keeps sending out bigger and bigger pulses at a slower rate, because it's trying to find an answering signal. And when you use your magic you get tired, and since your magic is being used unconsciously, you don't know you need to rest and eat more to replenish, so you enter a magical sleep and can only be woken up with magic." Tony blinked at him. "Make sense?"

It did make sense. Harry nodded. "So Loki was spelling things so I could have something my magic could bounce off of."

"Yeah. We'll have to do some shopping in the local magical district so we don't burn him out."

Harry nodded, settling his head back to Tony's chest. Now that Tony had explained he had other questions. "Why would you need to be sedated the night I got here?"

"Oh boy."

Thus, Harry found out exactly who he was living with, exactly what they were capable of, and exactly what they knew about him.

"Sir, we have a security breach."

Tony stirred, blinking the light out of his eyes. The weight on his chest proved to be Harry - _Harry!_ \- and Tony needed a few seconds to get his bearings.

"Security breach?"

"It's Director Fury. He's in your private elevator, sir."

"Stall him as long as you can. Alert the others."

"In progress and done, sir."

"JARVIS, I love you."

"You should, sir."

Tony managed to get Harry settled in bed and had just made it off the bed when the messy head popped up and unfocused green eyes peered up at him. "Da - Uncle Tony?"

"Hey bud. I need you to stay here, okay? I'll explain everything later, but right now the Director of SHIELD is headed up here and I need to head him off. Stay here for me, please?"

Something crossed the teen's face, something couldn't read, and then Harry blanked. "Sure. I'll pretend I don't exist."

Tony's stomach plummeted. "Harry that's not what I mean - "

"It's fine. Don't you have to go?"

"Harry - "

"Sir, Director Fury has reached the main level."

"Go, it's fine." Harry sat up, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. "This is important. Don't worry about me, I won't move."

Tony internally swore, itching to punch Fury in the face. "I will be right back up here as soon as I can, okay? I promise. I'm not leaving you alone, Harry. You are safe with me."

Something in the teen's eyes shifted, softened. "Okay. You promise."

"I promise."

"Sir, Director Fury is attempting to take Mr. Loki into custody."

"I gatta go, Foxtrot."

Harry nodded, suddenly earnest. "Hurry!"

Tony waltzed into the living area like he owned it, which he did, but acting so always seemed to irritate Fury, who liked to think he owned them all. Steve and Clint seemed to be attempting to restrain a barely restrainable Thor. Nat sent him a look at clearly said _'Fix this and make it quick before Thor blows it all to pieces'_ and not _'You took too long to get down here you better fix this before I end you.'_

Tony grinned.

"Fury, what are you doing with my minion? You've got a whole ship full of your own. Hands off." He crossed over to the bar and poured himself a drink. Sure he'd stopped drinking, but Fury didn't need to know that. He swirled his drink around for show, then crossed to the seating area.

Fury glared at him with his one good eye. "Why do I get the feeling that this is all your fault, Stark?"

Tony hmmed, flopping into the armchair nearest the TV. Loki stood nearby, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. "It probably is my fault, but you've got to be specific."

"You want to pretend you didn't know that a few short hours ago Loki cast enough magic to set the hellicarrier sensors off?"

"Oh, you pirates did pick that up. I wondered if you would. It was nothing. Loki was just showing me a few things."

Fury looked unimpressed. "For more than an hour?"

Tony sent him a flirty look. "They were very interesting things. I needed repeats." Clint snorted from somewhere above him and Tony smirked.

Fury leaned forward, no humor in his face. "The Council is getting nervous. It was all I could do to calm them down and keep them from ordering a strike on your precious tower."

"Is that what took you so long? I just thought you were slipping." Tony shrugged,

"What exactly is the Council's problem, sir?" Steve asked, shooting Tony a brief look of annoyance. "They didn't want Loki causing trouble, and he isn't."

"The Council doesn't believe Loki was being controlled by some big scary space alien in the sky. If Xavier hadn't shown me some of those images I wouldn't believe it either."

"But you have seen them." Tony pointed out. "Tell the Council to take a chill pill. Or get laid."

"Thank you, Stark," Fury glared. "What I know doesn't matter. The terms of Loki's pardon were that he not cast any magic - "

"In excess." Five voices chorused in response.

"As we've already discussed," Bruce spoke up from his spot near the door leading to the bedrooms, "Loki's magic is like a weed. Because of his nature as a Jotun, a race to which illusion comes naturally and because of the enchantments placed on him by Odin, Loki needs to exercise his magic to keep it from acting out."

"He hasn't cast any spells since he got here till three nights ago." Natasha met Fury's eyes evenly. "He's well within his limits."

"He hasn't been causing any trouble either," Clint offered from the vent above. "Well, he turned Thor's hair blue earlier today, but that doesn't count."

"It's not that simple." Fury frowned, crossing his arms. "They want a show of force, to remind him of his status here. I have to bring him in."

Tony slapped his glass on the table, ignoring the alcohol sloshing across its surface. "And then what? We have to break in to see him only to find him strapped to some table? Cut up and drained like the other aliens SHIELD's encountered? Don't forget, I hacked your files. I know what SHIELD does to individuals they can't control." Tony knew well what would happen to Loki if Fury let the WSC boss him around. And he was all for never letting that happen on his watch.

But he was also self-aware enough to know that underneath his desire to protect Loki was a burning, seething compulsion to protect Harry, and given what the teen could do, hell by his very _presence_ in Tony's life all of a sudden, there was no chance that SHIELD would ever have a choice but to find answers, and that was a possibility Tony just couldn't deal with. "You remind the council of Xavier's findings. You remind them of the interrogations Loki's sat through, the full on confession he gave. Remind them that he'd been manipulated for a full year before he fell off the Bifrost and that time doesn't flow there like it does on earth. Remind them of Thanos' face, how much he loves torture, and if they still have a problem, remind them that we're the damn Avengers and if they want him they have to go through us first." It did not need to be said, though Tony was sorely tempted to, that Fury could also remind them that he hadn't been nicknamed The Merchant of Death for kicks.

Fury didn't look impressed, but he didn't press the issue either. Tony thought, as he relaxed into the cushions of his seat, that he deserved the remainder of his drink as a reward, but Fury's next question drove that thought from his mind.

"Whose bag is that?"

"What?" Tony looked around, but Fury leaned forward and pulled a used athletic backpack from beneath the coffee table. Harry's backpack. Tony wanted to swear.

"It's mine, sir." Steve spoke up. "I placed it there earlier today."

"This isn't SHIELD issue."

"No sir. I bought it for him," Clint answered from above. "I figured he needed something a bit more modern."

"I don't believe either of you." Fury glared at them all. "For one, Steve is too anal to leave his pack just anywhere. Two, you'd never buy something so cheap, Barton. We put you on a budget for a reason. Three, Stark looks like he would give anything for me to not look in this bag right now."

"It wasn't a serious purchase, sir. Meant to be a joke, but Cap's too sentimental for his own good."

"And in my defense, the last time I saw that bag I was drunk and thought looking through Steve's sketchbook was a good idea. I don't remember if I added to one of his drawings or not and Steve's got a mean right hook."

Shaking his head, Fury undid the zipper. Steve's "Sir, I'd really rather you not, " was ignored.

A dead cellphone. Map of New York city. A handkerchief. A set of sketchbooks and drawing pencils. A Starbucks giftcard. Fury set the items on the coffee table and leaned back. "Well, I have to hand it to you. I don't think you're telling the truth, but this is very convincing."

"That was unnecessary." Steve gave the director as close to a glare as Tony figured he dared.

Fury stood. "I don't trust any of you right now. I know you're hiding something. I suppose the only good thing is that you're all in it together, so it's either not too bad or so catastrophic you feel the need to keep it to yourselves. Either way, I don't like it. Loki, you get to see another day. Don't waste it." He moved toward the elevator, pulling his cloak tight around him. "By the way, the Avengers have been recognized as an official independent body like you asked. Congratulations, but be warned." Here, he turned to face them, piercing them all with his one beady eye. "I can't defend you from the nations of the world if I can't trust you."

"Sure you can," Tony quipped. "Lie."

Natasha shot Tony a glare. "You can trust us, sir."

Fury shook his head. "I doubt it." The elevator opened for him, and he was gone.

They all stood in silence, and Tony almost didn't believe they got off so easy. "Give me the all clear, JARVIS."Therewas several secondsoftense silence before the AI answered.

"All clear, sir. Director Fury has left the building. No surveillance devices were detected."

Tony didn't wait. Nat's voice followed his progress down the hall.

"Tony maybe we should consider - "

"No." Definitely not. That was a scenario Tony didn't have the mental capacity to indulge in without having to clamp down on something very primal rising in his chest. Damn it all. He broke into a run, suddenly needing to see Harry again.


End file.
